Echoes
by Kirin's fics
Summary: If Bankotsu can say one thing about Jakotsu, it's that he definitely makes life more interesting. That is, until one chance encounter leaves him wondering just how far he can really trust him. You can run from your past but you can't hide... Past timeline fic. Please note content warnings and author's note. Constructive criticism welcome.
1. Prologue (Makoto I)

**DISCLAIMER:** Inuyasha and all of the characters featured in this fanfic are the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Publishing, Sunrise, Viz and all other respective copyright owners. I do not lay claim to these characters in any way, shape or form.

 **Rating** : M / R

 **Content warnings:** Graphic violence, torture, suicide mention, child abuse, sexual abuse of minors, implied rape, slurs, swearing

 **Pairings:** OC-Jakotsu (unrequited), OC-Bankotsu (unrequited), past OCxJakotsu.

 **Author's notes:**

Please note that I go by manga canon only for all of my fics unless otherwise stated

Another quick note on the timeline(s): the main storyline takes place about four and a half years before the Shichinintai's execution. Bankotsu is 12 going on 13 and Jakotsu is 16. The Makoto chapters take place 4 years to 10 months before the main storyline.

All of the original characters featured in this story are my own creations. Any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.

 **Glossary**

 _Bokken_ \- a wooden sword used for training

 _Daimyou_ \- a powerful feudal lord. Often used to refer to the leader of a samurai clan.

 _O- -_ an honorific prefix used to show respect

* * *

 **Makoto I (Prologue)**

Makoto stood poised, his ebony eyes fixed on his prey. His blade was light in his hands. His breath misted the forest air as he weighed up his target. All it would take was one blow.

His sword swept downwards, missing the leaf by a hair.

He swore under his breath and blew a strand of dark hair out of his eyes. Focus, _focus_. At least it was easier to concentrate without Ichirou laughing at him. None of them ever came _here_ , least of all to laugh. No taunts, no laughter, no Ichirou.

Stupid Ichirou.

He swung his sword once more. A cloud of leaves scattered in its wake. None of them split.

"Dammit!"

He slashed at the air in frustration. The leaves danced around him, taunting him with their whispers. He heaved a sigh. He lowered his katana and wiped his forehead with his left sleeve. This was getting him nowhere.

He risked a glance over his shoulder. No Ichirou. Not that he'd expected him, of course. Not since that morning.

The morning Ichirou had turned thirteen. The morning he'd brought him a new bokken. The morning he'd found him by the river, hand-in-hand with Aoi.

Stupid, stupid Ichirou.

He gritted his teeth and brought the blade down with both hands.

The leaf split clean in two.

Makoto grinned as the two halves fluttered away on the breeze. "All right!" He gave a whoop and brandished his sword over his head.

A flock of crows took to the air screaming.

He flushed and clapped his free hand over his mouth. What was he _thinking_? If someone heard...

A soft chuckle rose from a nearby dell.

Makoto whirled round, his triumph forgotten. He levelled his katana in front of him, hardly daring to breathe. "Who's there?"

There was no reply. He waited stock-still, every nerve on edge. Just as he was beginning to relax, he heard a ragged cough.

"Here." The man's voice was taut with pain. "Come..." He broke into a coughing fit.

Makoto didn't move. He counted the seconds until the man's coughs gave way to silence. His eyes scanned the clearing for any signs of danger. His head snapped up as the branch above him quivered.

A squirrel peered down at him with curious eyes.

Makoto took a deep breath and tightened his grip on his katana. He crept to the edge of the dell, his sword at the ready. He suppressed a shudder as he caught the reek of blood.

A tangle of vines blocked his path. He hacked them aside. The gap was narrow but Makoto was more than lithe enough to fit through it. He steadied himself and pushed his way through the foliage.

His eyes shot wide as he took in the sight before him.

Corpses littered the forest floor like leaves. Broken men lay mangled in pools of congealed blood. They gaped at him with sightless eyes. Some of them hadn't even had time to draw their swords. The scent of death hung heavy in the air.

And there, in the middle of it all, was the samurai.

He lay slumped against a large maple, his hair hanging over his face like a veil. His side and shoulder were bound with makeshift bandages torn from the corpses' clothing. What remained of his armour was cracked and battered. His right hand still clutched the hilt of a broken katana.

Makoto backed away and grabbed at the nearest tree trunk for support. He was about to bolt when the samurai forced out another word.

"Wait..."

Makoto froze. He turned his head and fixed the man with the fiercest stare he could muster. The samurai didn't respond. Makoto frowned as he caught sight of the tattered banner at his back. His eyes widened as he made out the daimyou's wisteria crest.

Whoever he was, he was in no state to fight. Makoto edged towards the samurai, his heart thundering.

The samurai raised his eyes as he approached. Warm chestnut eyes. Up close, he seemed younger than Makoto had expected, perhaps no more than twenty. His face, though drawn with pain, was smooth and unblemished, his features unusually fine for a man's. Makoto felt a flush creep across his cheeks as the samurai met his gaze.

"O-samurai-sama..." he began. His blush grew deeper.

The samurai gave him a nod.

Makoto swallowed and continued. "M-may I... help?"

The samurai weighed his words. When he spoke his voice was surprisingly clear.

"Sword."

The samurai pointed down at his stomach. Makoto stared at him in confusion. It wasn't until the man mimed a slash across his belly that he finally caught on.

Makoto stood motionless, the samurai's stare pinning him to the spot. He looked down at the blade in his hands. All it would take was one blow. He bit his lip.

"Here." The samurai grasped the tree trunk with one hand and tried to haul himself upright. He dropped to one knee as another coughing fit took hold. His hand clutched at his throat. A strangled curse escaped his lips.

"O-samurai-sama!"

Makoto rushed to his side. He knelt down and placed a tentative hand on the man's back. The samurai cast a pained glance in his direction. He began to open his mouth, only to keel over with a croak.

A scream tore from Makoto's throat as the samurai hit the ground.

* * *

I hope to have the next chapter up by the end of December. I'm planning to update this on a monthly basis.

Constructive criticism is very welcome!


	2. Bankotsu I

**DISCLAIMER:** Inuyasha and all of the characters featured in this fanfic are the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Publishing, Sunrise, Viz and all other respective copyright owners. I do not lay claim to these characters in any way, shape or form.

 **Author's notes:**

Just a quick reminder about character ages: the main storyline takes place about four and a half years before the Shichinintai's execution. Bankotsu is 12 going on 13 and Jakotsu is 16.

 **Glossary**

 _Dango –_ Sweet dumplings made from rice flour. Three to four dango are often served on a skewer.

 _Kosode_ \- a basic Japanese robe for both men and women.

 _Bisento_ \- a spear-like weapon resembling a glaive with a heavy curved blade

 _Tomoe_ \- an abstract shape like a swirl that resembles a comma. A common design element in Japanese family crests.

* * *

 **Bankotsu I**

The silver sang clear as the summer sky.

Bankotsu grinned, tossed the coin and caught it in mid-air. Not a bad reward for taking out one drunken bandit. Even if it had taken most of the week to track him down.

He gave the coin one last tap and untied the string he wore around his neck. At least the daimyou was less stingy than most. He added the silver to his row of coppers, keeping one eye on the passing townspeople. The bridge to Mito castle was busy at the best of times but market day was something else. Still, a little spending wouldn't hurt.

Besides, there'd be more where that came from.

He turned to Jakotsu. The older boy leant against the bridge rail, a dreamy smile on his lips. He watched a young samurai at the marketplace with hungry eyes. Bankotsu reached up and tapped him on the shoulder.

"You up for seconds?"

Jakotsu blinked and looked down. He scratched his cheek. "Depends. Is he cute?"

Bankotsu laughed. "We'll see."

"He better be. That last one was hardly worth cutting up." Jakotsu sighed. He glanced towards the nearest stall. A small crowd had gathered to eye up the stack of barrels standing in its shade. "You've got change, right?"

"What for?"

"Sake?" Jakotsu stifled a giggle at Bankotsu's look of disgust.

"What? That crap's just nasty."

"Guess you'd prefer some dango, huh?" Jakotsu grinned and dodged Bankotsu's playful swipe. "Aw, come on. I'll get you the sticky ones."

Bankotsu relented and reached into his kosode once more. He toyed with the string, smirking as Jakotsu tried - and failed - not to fidget. The first time he'd given Jakotsu his full share in one go had also been the last. He let him wait a little longer, untied the string and weighed up its contents.

"Well... okay." He tossed a few copper coins into his friend's eager hand. "Don't spend it all at once."

Jakotsu winked. Bankotsu stuck out his tongue in reply. Jakotsu gave him a wave and plunged into the crowd. He was soon lost in the throng of comers and goers.

Bankotsu smiled and shook his head. If he could say one thing about Jakotsu, it was that he definitely made life more interesting. He propped his bisento against the bridge and vaulted on top of the nearest post. A passing merchant snorted in disgust. Bankotsu ignored him. He sat down and rested his bisento's haft against his shoulder. Time to wait.

At least the view was better from up here. The market was still in full swing, despite it being well past midday. Traders and townspeople jostled past, filling the air with idle chatter. The bright awnings rustled in the warm breeze. A hint of roasted fish wafted across the river, making his stomach growl. Good job they had a hot meal and beds in the servants' quarters waiting for them back at the castle.

A rumble of voices came from the centre of the marketplace. A group of soldiers strode into view, sending the townsfolk scurrying out of their way. The merchants eyed them nervously from behind their wares. As the soldiers drew closer, Bankotsu made out the daimyou's three tomoe emblazoned on the banners at their backs.

The murmurs grew louder as the soldiers neared the bridge. Bankotsu glanced in Jakotsu's direction. His friend had a jug of sake in hand but his eyes were fixed on the soldiers. However, it was the man stalking through the marketplace towards Jakotsu that caught Bankotsu's attention.

He had to be at least half a head taller than anyone else in the crowd. He carried no banner, nor did his armour bear a crest. Yet his paired swords, steady prowl and unflinching eyes all marked him as a samurai. The remaining townsfolk slipped away as he approached the stall.

Bankotsu frowned as the samurai sidled up behind Jakotsu. His frown deepened as the samurai put his hand on Jakotsu's shoulder.

The last man who'd done that had met a very messy end.

Jakotsu started. He twisted out of the samurai's grip and flung the jug of sake at his face. The samurai took the blow on his vambrace. The jug shattered, drenching him in sake. A gasp rose from the crowd.

Bankotsu leapt off the post and took up his bisento. He barged through the marketplace, narrowly avoiding a collision with two merchants and a vegetable cart. He pressed on, shoving his way towards the stall. Scowls and mutters followed him through the crowd.

By the time he got there Jakotsu's back was to the wall. The soldiers had gathered around the sake stall, levelling their spears at him. The merchant cowered behind his barrels. None of the townsfolk gave them a second glance.

The samurai stood a few paces away from Jakotsu, his hand resting on his katana's hilt. Up close, he was even taller; over six feet of lean muscle and pure arrogance. The sake dripping from his shaggy black mane didn't faze him one bit. His gaze was steady as a hawk's.

The samurai shook his head in mock disbelief, a soft smirk playing around his lips. "And here I was going to buy you a drink." His voice was as rough as a saw edge.

The samurai took a step towards Jakotsu. Jakotsu slipped aside. "Not interested."

The samurai propped one arm against the wall, blocking his path. "Oh, don't be too sure about that."

Jakotsu's eyes narrowed. "If you think I'm-"

"Aw, come on, kid." The samurai loomed closer, towering over him. "You're not scared, are you?"

Jakotsu swore under his breath and backed off. He bumped into the stack of barrels and flinched away. The samurai gave a chuckle. Bankotsu tightened his grip on his bisento.

"Awful shy, aren't you?" the samurai remarked. "Too bad Onuki isn't here. He wouldn't say no to a little fun."

Jakotsu's shoulders stiffened. The hate in his eyes turned to pure loathing. When he spoke his voice was barely above a whisper. "Damn it, Iwakami..."

Bankotsu forced his way past the bystanders and rushed to Jakotsu's side. Jakotsu's eyes grew wide at the sight of him.

Iwakami smirked. "Oh? You never told me you had company."

Bankotsu shot him a glare. "How about I tell you to piss off?"

Iwakami's smirk broke into a grin. "Well, aren't you a feisty one?" His grin widened as he looked Bankotsu up and down. "Guess I'd better watch my ankles."

The soldiers snickered. Bankotsu's jaw tensed. "Shut your mouth. Or you'll regret it."

Jakotsu caught his breath. "Bankotsu..."

Iwakami merely kept grinning. "Will I?"

Bankotsu made no reply. He lifted his bisento from his shoulder and levelled it at Iwakami. The soldiers bristled their spears. Iwakami threw back his head and laughed.

"Oh, you have got to be-"

Bankotsu snarled. He sprang forwards, only to be yanked clean off his feet.

Laughter rippled through the marketplace. Bankotsu turned to glare at his captor.

"Jakotsu!"

His protests died in his throat as he caught sight of the look on Jakotsu's face. He'd seen venom in those eyes plenty of times before. But this...

This was the first time he'd ever glimpsed fear.

"Jakotsu?"

Jakotsu didn't respond. He put Bankotsu down but kept one hand on his shoulder. His eyes never left Iwakami's face.

Iwakami tsked and shook his head. "Well, can't say I'm surprised. Onuki never did like to share."

Jakotsu took a sharp breath as a shudder of rage swept through his body. The bystanders began to murmur as his hand went to Jakotsutou's hilt.

Iwakami's grin returned. He readied another remark, only to be drowned out by the bellow of a conch.

One of the soldiers glanced towards the castle. "Iwakami-sama?"

Iwakami followed his gaze. His brow creased in irritation. "Sounds like the old man doesn't want to be kept waiting." He signalled to the soldiers.

The soldiers put up their spears. Bankotsu blinked. A small frown crossed Jakotsu's face.

Iwakami gave him an apologetic smile. "Looks like we'll have to continue this another time." He turned to follow the soldiers, who were making their way towards the bridge. He waved at the two boys over his shoulder. "See you, Mako-chan."

Jakotsu tensed like a bowstring. His hand trembled on Bankotsu's shoulder. Bankotsu steeled himself, waiting for the moment when Jakotsu would strike.

The moment never came.

"Jakotsu?" Bankotsu's eyes widened as he found Jakotsu frozen to the spot. "Jakotsu!"

Jakotsu blinked. He rubbed his forehead, as if trying to clear his thoughts. He looked down at Bankotsu and blinked again, as though he'd just seen him for the first time. "We should go."

Bankotsu offered him a nod. Before he could respond further, Jakotsu gripped his arm and practically dragged him away from the stall.

* * *

They walked straight through the marketplace without another word. The townsfolk were only too happy to let them pass. Finally, as they approached the edge of the warehouse district, Bankotsu broke the silence.

" _Mako-chan_?"

Jakotsu's fingers clenched like talons. Bankotsu yanked at his sleeve.

"Ah, shit. Sorry!" Jakotsu released his grip.

Bankotsu scowled and rubbed his arm. "You said didn't have a name."

"That's _not_ my–" Jakotsu let out a sigh. "Just forget it, okay?"

Bankotsu stared at him open-mouthed. That was the last thing he'd ever expected to hear from Jakotsu. " _Forget it?_ Jakotsu, he-"

"He's a fucking creep? Tell me about it." Jakotsu gave another sigh and rubbed the back of his neck. "Iwakami's not worth the headache."

Bankotsu's scowl returned. "You think I'd let that arsehole–"

"That arsehole who's ordering half the garrison around? You think he's–"

"That doesn't mean he can–"

"It means he can do whatever the hell he wants, so long as the daimyou looks the other way." Jakotsu paused as he realised their argument was beginning to attract a few stares. His shoulders slumped. When he met Bankotsu's gaze, his eyes were almost pleading. "Just let it go."

Bankotsu let out a sigh of his own. Sometimes there was no arguing with Jakotsu. "Okay. But he's not touching you again."

Jakotsu raised an eyebrow. Bankotsu put his hand on Jakotsu's shoulder.

"It's okay. We're not going back."

"Then where–"

"We'll find somewhere." He offered Jakotsu his hand. Jakotsu frowned but took it without complaining. They set off without looking back.

* * *

 _Constructive criticism is very welcome!_


	3. Makoto II

**DISCLAIMER:** Inuyasha and all of the characters featured in this fanfic are the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Publishing, Sunrise, Viz and all other respective copyright owners. I do not lay claim to these characters in any way, shape or form.

 **Glossary**

 _Yukata_ \- a light, unlined kimono. Used as after-bath wear or sleepwear during this time period.

* * *

 **Makoto II**

It took three days before Makoto gave in to sleep.

His scream had soon brought the woodcutters running. They'd found him kneeling on the forest floor, the samurai's head cradled in his lap.

Grandpa had been the first to offer to take him in. There wasn't much space in their hut at the best of times but Mama had managed to squeeze in an extra futon. The local miko had squeezed herself in a couple of hours later. The four of them had tended to the samurai as best they could. The rest of the villagers kept a respectful distance. Even Ichirou hadn't come to disturb him.

Not that Makoto minded, of course.

Ume-sama had given them the all clear just before nightfall. She'd ordered everyone to bed straight afterwards. Makoto had been too shattered to argue. Which was just as well when he found himself sharing a bed with both Mama and Grandpa.

He woke with a start the next morning, only to find the samurai sleeping beside them. Ume-sama was already awake and changing his bandages. As soon as he'd managed to wriggle out of bed she had him fetching fresh water.

With the samurai's condition so improved, Grandpa was able to return to his forge and Mama to her painting. Ume-sama went to gather fresh herbs. That left Makoto alone to keep an eye on the samurai.

He set down his bowl of water and knelt beside the samurai's futon. He didn't stir. He'd spent the last few days drifting in and out of consciousness, aware of nothing but pain. Makoto had barely left his side since he collapsed.

Makoto began folding a clean cloth into a square. His gaze drifted towards the samurai as he worked. The man's face was peaceful as a newborn's. His long lashes were firmly closed and his hair lay tousled around him. He'd shifted the blanket while he slept, exposing half his body. His fresh yukata lay open to the waist. Makoto's cheeks flushed as his eyes trailed down his strip of bare chest.

He swallowed and dipped his cloth into the bowl. Better just get on with it. He applied the cloth to the samurai's forehead. His skin was cool to the touch. He reached out and brushed a few damp strands of hair away from the man's face.

The samurai's eyes snapped open.

Makoto gasped and backed away. The bowl toppled over. A puddle of water spread across the matting and seeped into the futon. He swore and mopped at the damp patch with his sleeve. _Idiot_. He rose to find another cloth.

The samurai grabbed his wrist.

Makoto tried to pull away. "Mama!"

The samurai's grip held fast. His eyes searched Makoto's face imploringly.

"Where..."

Anxious voices came from outside the hut. Hurried footsteps pattered towards them. The samurai released his grip.

"Makoto!"

Mama stood in the doorway, her eyes wide, her face pale. The ties on her sleeves had come loose, leaving them hanging halfway down her arms. She was still clutching her paintbrush in her right hand.

The older woman behind her wore miko's robes and a look of intense curiosity. She peered at the samurai from over Mama's shoulder. Ume-sama had never been the tallest of women - or the slimmest - but seeing her next to Mama was almost funny. Still, what she lacked in height she more than made up for in volume.

The samurai raised his gaze towards the two women.

Mama returned his stare. She folded her arms across her chest. "What did you-"

"It's alright, Ageha. Let me through." The miko placed a reassuring hand on Mama's back.

Mama stepped aside but kept her gaze fixed on the samurai. She followed Ume-sama to his bedside and put her hand on Makoto's shoulder. A loose strand from her bun brushed his cheek.

"Makoto, are you alright?" she asked.

Ume-sama knelt down beside them and gave Makoto a kindly smile. "Looks like you've had quite a scare, young man." She ruffled his hair. "Now what's the trouble?"

Makoto made a pout. Mama hid a smile behind her sleeve. He'd be thirteen come spring but Ume-sama still insisted on treating him like he was three. At least she didn't pinch his cheeks this time.

"I didn't - he, he just woke up."

"I see." Ume-sama turned her attention to the samurai. "May I be of any assistance, O-samurai-sama?"

The samurai let out a parched cough. "Wa..."

Ume-sama pursed her lips. The samurai pointed to his throat.

"Wa... ter," he rasped.

Makoto scrambled to his feet. Mama frowned but moved aside to let him pass. He took a bamboo canteen from beside the doorway and set off for the river.

By the time he returned, Mama had already mopped and swept the floor. Ume-sama was inspecting the samurai's wounds. He gave a weak smile at the sight of Makoto.

Makoto came over and knelt beside him once more. He held out the canteen, careful not to spill a drop.

"O-samurai-sama?"

The samurai reached out and almost knocked the canteen from Makoto's hand. He gave a cough that might have been a curse. His hand fell back to his side.

"Here, Makoto-kun."

Ume-sama lifted the samurai's head and shoulders. Mama paused, then knelt down to join her. Together, they managed to tip a little water into his mouth.

The samurai gave another cough, spilling half the water down his chin. Makoto backed away.

The samurai gave him a reassuring smile. Makoto held the canteen out again. The samurai nodded. This time, most of the water went straight down his throat.

It didn't take him long to finish the canteen. Mama and Ume-sama laid him back down as gently as they could. Makoto was about to fetch more water when the samurai tugged at his sleeve.

"You have my thanks... Makoto?"

A blush crept across Makoto's cheeks. He bowed his head. "Uh, thank you very much, O-samurai-sama."

The samurai's smile widened. "My apologies. I should have introduced myself." He bowed his head. "Thank you for your hospitality, good ladies. My name is Onuki Yoshihiko."

Ume-sama gasped and bowed right down to the floor. Mama pushed Makoto down with her.

Makoto blinked. "Mama?" he whispered.

She put her finger to her lips. The samurai coughed and motioned for them to raise their heads.

"Please. I am truly indebted to all of you. My father will hear of your kindness."

"Father?" Makoto looked away when he realised he'd spoken a little too loudly.

The samurai nodded. "My lord father, Onuki Yoshinobu."

Makoto's blush turned pale. "Th-the daimyou?!"

* * *

 _Constructive criticism is very welcome!_

I update on a monthly basis.


	4. Bankotsu II

**DISCLAIMER:** Inuyasha and all of the characters featured in this fanfic are the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Publishing, Sunrise, Viz and all other respective copyright owners. I do not lay claim to these characters in any way, shape or form.

 **Author's notes**

Thank you for the faves and follows!

Just a quick historical note: Tanning was considered a very low-status occupation due to its association with slaughtering animals. This carried a strong social stigma of defilement or impurity. Tanners were looked down upon and tended to live apart from the rest of society.

However, the continual warfare during the Sengoku Jidai meant that leather was in high demand. Therefore, tanners and leatherworkers had yet to face the level of discrimination they would encounter during the Edo period (1603-1868), when the social order became much more rigid.

* * *

 **Bankotsu II**

 _How come your sword has a name but you don't?_

The question was simple enough. One of the first he'd asked.

Yet Jakotsu had never really given him an answer.

The sword was the first thing that caught his eye. He'd met Jakotsu on a blood-soaked battlefield, beset by spearmen on all sides. One moment their foes were closing in, the next half of them crumpled like rag dolls. As Jakotsu drew back his arm, Bankotsu caught sight of the blades glistening with blood. Their opponents ground to a halt, gawping.

The terror on their faces was outshone only by Jakotsu's look of pure joy.

Bankotsu soon took care of the other half. They tore through the unit like a plague. No man could get within twenty paces of them without falling prey to their blades.

Except for one.

Jakotsu's attention was devoted to the young samurai. Every other soldier who came near him was torn to shreds. He'd toyed with the boy all the while, letting nothing come between him and his prey. Every cut was a caress. Every scream only spurred him further. He'd left the samurai beaten and bloody but still clinging to life.

At least, until no one else was left to snatch his prize.

The next time Bankotsu saw him, the samurai's severed head was dangling from Jakotsu's grasp. Jakotsu's arms were crimson up to the elbows. His bloodied blade was slung over his shoulder. His smile was as bright as ever.

A pair of passing soldiers shuddered with disgust. They couldn't have given him a wider berth if they tried.

Jakotsu strolled past the soldiers without giving them so much as a glance. The boy's head swung in time with his footsteps. He paused as he caught sight of Bankotsu staring at him.

Bankotsu tilted his head to one side. He took stock of the older boy, dripping blade, severed head and all.

Jakotsu quirked an eyebrow but made no reply. His gaze held only curiosity. The silence stretched between them.

Finally, Bankotsu smiled back. "Hey."

Jakotsu's smile widened as recognition flickered in his eyes.

They soon found themselves sharing a campfire. It hadn't taken long for them to get talking. There wasn't much else left to do. Besides, two blades were better than one. Although it was more like one and another dozen with Jakotsu around.

 _He never mentioned his name though._

Bankotsu stole a glance at his friend. Jakotsu ambled along beside him, humming snatches of inane drinking songs. He'd been as chatty as ever once they got clear of Mito. Cheerful, even. Despite the odd glance over his shoulder...

"Bankotsu?"

Bankotsu paused just in time to avoid walking into Jakotsu's back. He looked up at the older boy, trying to hide his embarrassment.

"What now?"

"Bit much, don't you think?" Jakotsu pointed towards a trio of ox carts trundling down the road towards them.

Bankotsu shielded his eyes from the sinking sun and squinted to get a better look. The carts were flanked by six guards. All were armoured from head to foot with spears in hand. Even the merchants carried staves.

The carts drew closer. One of the guards had his arm in a sling. Another was limping. Their armour was cracked and dented. One cart still had a few arrows embedded in its side.

Easy pickings, but a fight was the last thing they needed right now.

The carts began to slow as they approached. The party ground to a halt several cart lengths from him and Jakotsu. The guards made no moves but their eyes held nothing but distrust.

He gave them a nod.

"Afternoon."

The guards didn't reply. The nearest merchant narrowed his wrinkled eyes. "Where are you headed, young man?"

"Sukegawa," Jakotsu put in.

The merchant shook his grizzled head. "I'd go back to Mito if I were you. You're heading straight into bandit country."

The guard with a sling nodded. "Ran into a pack of them ourselves a few miles back. They got the worst of it though." He looked at his comrades with pride.

Bankotsu patted his bisento. "Nothing we can't handle."

The merchant raised an eyebrow but made no comment.

The guard shook his head. "That route's nothing but trouble, if you ask me."

"Been like that ever since the old Onuki daimyou passed away." The merchant sighed. "Pity his brother's not half the man he was."

The guard gave him a wry smile. "Better mind your mouth, Tarou. You hear what happened to that nephew of his?"

A flicker of tension crossed Jakotsu's face. His fingers tightened on Jakotsutou's shoulder strap.

Two of the merchants exchanged a glance.

Bankotsu cleared his throat. "There wouldn't happen to be any inns round here?"

"Nearest inn's back in Mito" Tarou replied. "Keep going towards Sukegawa and you're asking for it."

"It's urgent." Jakotsu's tone brooked no argument.

"Urgent, huh?" Tarou let out another sigh. "Well, there's a tanners' village by the forest a couple of miles back if you're desperate. Sooner sleep under the stars, myself." He gave a shudder.

"Thanks." Bankotsu tugged at Jakotsu's sleeve and set off along the road. Fortunately, his friend followed him without complaint.

"Just along the road right?" Bankotsu called over his shoulder.

The guard gave a bark of laughter. "Just follow your nose, kid. You'll find it in no time."

* * *

It was almost dark by the time they approached the village. They'd caught the stench of drying hides long before the sight of any buildings. The village stood on the outskirts of the forest, close to the river. There wasn't much to it, just a dozen or so huts and a ramshackle watchtower. The stink was so thick he swore he could taste it.

He'd still take it over a sleepless night.

Jakotsu had kept his silence all the way. Even the smell wasn't enough to get a word out of him. Bankotsu didn't push him. He'd had enough arguments for one day.

The tanners were clearly no strangers to bandits. Their village was ringed by a trench filled with sharpened stakes. The only gap was guarded by four watchmen with torches and spears. Two more watchmen stood atop the tower, one with a bow in his hands. They stared at the two boys with wary eyes.

Bankotsu was about to give them a wave when he heard the creak of a bowstring. He stopped in his tracks. Jakotsu did the same.

This _was_ getting to be a problem.

The archer frowned down at them. His longbow was nothing special but his stooped back and hefty arms told of years of experience. His frown deepened as he caught sight of their weapons.

"That's as far as you go." The man's voice was as taut as his bowstring. "What's your business?"

"We're on our way to Sukegawa," Bankotsu replied. "Can you spare a room for the night?"

The archer sneered. "Does this look like a guesthouse to you? Move along, boy."

Bankotsu lifted his chin. "You sure about that? Looks like you could do with a couple of extra watchmen."

The archer snorted. "You don't say?" He hawked and spat. "Clear off, brat and take your sister with you."

Jakotsu's fists clenched. _Great._ Bankotsu was about to cut off his retort when the shorter of the two watchmen broke in.

"Aw, come on, Hiroshi." He gestured towards them with a bamboo spear. "They're only kids."

Hiroshi was unmoved. "Kids with sharp blades and big mouths. We don't need any more trouble round here."

"So you're just going to leave them out for Akayoru?" The short watchman shook his head. "Hell, the little one can't be much older than your Jirou."

Hiroshi ground his teeth. "We've been over this before, Daisuke..."

Jakotsu rolled his eyes. Bankotsu was tempted to do the same. Still, there was no harm in letting Daisuke's bleeding heart do the persuading for them. He tapped his foot while the two men exchanged heated whispers.

Finally, Hiroshi let out a sigh and lowered his bow. He glared down his nose at the two boys.

"All right. You want beds, you earn them. Fair?"

Jakotsu frowned. "Earn them?"

Daisuke cleared his throat. "Well, the thing is... we've been having a bit of a youkai problem lately."

Bankotsu's eyes brightened. "Youkai?"

* * *

 _Constructive criticism is very welcome!_

I update around the beginning of each month.


	5. Makoto III

**DISCLAIMER:** Inuyasha and all of the characters featured in this fanfic are the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Publishing, Sunrise, Viz and all other respective copyright owners. I do not lay claim to these characters in any way, shape or form.

 **Glossary**

 _Tatami (armour)_ \- a type of lightweight portable folding armour worn by samurai and foot soldiers. It was made from small plates of metal sewn to a cloth backing.

 _Kami_ \- spirits or phenomena that are worshipped in the Shinto religion. They can be elements in nature, animals, creationary forces in the universe or spirits of the revered deceased.

 _Kata_ \- detailed choreographed sequences of movements practised either solo or in pairs. These were originally teaching and training methods by which successful combat techniques were preserved and passed on.

* * *

 **Makoto III**

 _Today._

Grandpa roused him at dawn with a smile on his lips and Jatou in his hand. One word was all it took to get Makoto's pulse racing.

It had been six months since Grandpa let him touch Jatou for the first time. Four months since he'd let him swing it. Two months since he'd let him release the catch and send the blades flying.

Today he'd let him test his father's sword.

Onuki-sama's bed was already empty. They found him in the yard outside the forge, a bokken in his hands. No matter the weather, he'd run through his morning exercises without fail. He claimed all that bed rest made him stiff. The lack of action had weakened his arms and dulled his instincts. He couldn't afford to go to rust. Even Ume-sama hadn't been able to keep him from practising as soon as he could swing a sword.

A small crowd had gathered to watch Onuki-sama. Makoto spotted Ichirou perched on the fence at the end of the yard. Aoi stood beside him, a new ribbon in her hair. A couple of Ichirou's friends had joined them, along with one of Aoi's brothers. For once, all of them were silent.

If this was rusty then Makoto could only dream of how sharp Onuki-sama must have been.

The samurai's face was still as a pond. His breath was steady, his stance was sure and his eyes held nothing but concentration. Despite his injury, his movements were smooth as a summer lake. Each technique flowed seamlessly into the next, swift and sure as the river.

Makoto couldn't help but stare. He wasn't the only one. No one could have missed Aoi's admiring glances. Ichirou certainly didn't. That brought a smirk to Makoto's lips, although Ichirou's glare soon wiped it off again.

Makoto coughed and looked away. Aggravating as he could be, Ichirou _was_ cute. His hair was dark and glossy, his eyes large and grey, his limbs strong and supple. Yet next to Onuki-sama...

Onuki-sama had a wife. A son too. Guilt crept up Makoto's neck and threatened to break out on his face. He'd lost count of the amount of times he'd reminded himself of that over the last few weeks. Yet he could never quite resist a glance in Onuki-sama's direction.

"Ready for practice, Makoto?" Grandpa threw him a wink and a bokken of his own.

Makoto caught the bokken and gave him a sheepish grin. He buried himself in his practice before his face could betray even more of his feelings.

Grandpa made him warm up for an hour. He'd also made him wear his old tatami armour. He'd assured him he'd grow into it. Makoto didn't doubt it; he was already tall enough to look Grandpa in the eye. The weight was enough to make him sweat despite the morning's chill. Yet it was a small load to bear for a chance like this.

As the morning wore on, Makoto caught sight of Ichirou sneering at him. There were giggles coming from behind him. Snickering too. Yet as soon as he so much as glanced in their direction, their gazes shifted to Onuki-sama. All except Ichirou's. He'd linger on Makoto for a second, a smirk spreading across his face before he turned away. He'd never looked more punchable.

But that would cost him Jatou.

Makoto fixed his gaze straight ahead and shut them out. He ignored every snicker, every giggle, every sneer. He went through every motion with an exaggerated care, ever wary of Grandpa's caution and Mama's watchful eye. He even managed to keep his eyes off Onuki-sama. Until Grandpa finally returned with a bundle tucked under his arm.

A target.

It wasn't much to look at, just a wad of rice straw wrapped around a stick of bamboo. Yet Grandpa assured him the straw was thick as flesh, the bamboo as hard as bone. Makoto had cut through more of them than he could count.

But never with Jatou.

With a katana in his hands he could cleave the same target three times without breaking his flow. He could cut through a lump of bamboo thicker than his arm. Even slice a falling leaf in two.

But Jatou wasn't so easy to handle.

The snake sword was unlike any other sword he'd seen. Broad and curved, its blades looked more like leaves than those of any katana. The twelve blades folded seamlessly into one, as if they'd been forged as a whole. When he swung Jatou, the blades sprang from its hilt like the snake they were named for. One swing could bring down half a dozen men, if you believed Grandpa's tales. Most people didn't.

But Jatou was still his favourite.

Makoto slid Jatou from its sheath. The blade's whisper silenced the onlookers. He raised the sword, keeping his eyes locked on his target. Just a little to the-

"Is he going to stand there all day?"

Ichirou's voice brought him back to earth with a thump. He turned to glare at the older boy, only to find his back turned. One of the others whispered something in Ichirou's ear. Aoi gave a nervous giggle. He tightened his grip on Jatou.

"From there?"

"No way..."

Makoto clenched his teeth. Of course Ichirou wasn't going to make this easy for him. He muttered a curse under his breath.

"Ignore them, Makoto." Grandpa placed a hand on his shoulder, nudging him back towards the target. "Why, you must have cut down a thousand of these."

 _But not with Jatou._ Makoto held back a sigh and nodded. He tore his gaze away from Ichirou and focused on the target once more. All he had to do was-

"Get on with it!"

Ichirou's voice stung him into action. Makoto whipped back his arm and unleashed Jatou.

The blades sprang out, quick as their namesake. They rushed towards the target. Makoto held his breath, silently begging the kami for help. The final blade leapt past the target.

And struck the ground.

Makoto yelped and dropped the sword. He stumbled backwards and tripped over his own feet. He landed flat on his backside, just in time to avoid the tangle of blades hurtling towards him.

"Makoto!"

Makoto flushed and bit back a curse. Laughter filled his ears as he struggled back to his feet.

Grandpa rushed over to help him up. Makoto sighed and shook his head. He looked up and found Mama peering out of the hut's doorway, concern etched on her face. She was still holding the mirror she'd been painting for Ume-sama's shrine.

"I-it's okay, Mama. I didn't get cut," Makoto added, as Mama's accusing stare moved towards Grandpa.

"I thought I told you-"

"It's alright, Ageha. No harm done." Grandpa patted Makoto on the back, showing that he was still in one piece.

Mama didn't look too convinced. "He's _twelve_ , Grandfather. Sparring with Ichirou is one thing but that..." She shook her head. "He's more than good enough with a katana."

Makoto's blush deepened. Mama worried too much, everyone agreed. Still... "Sorry, Mama. I'll be more careful. I promise."

He didn't have to look round to know that Ichirou was rolling his eyes. As he dusted himself off, he caught the familiar words. _Mama's boy._ Not like Ichirou could talk. He'd caught him eying her up more than once. Then again, most of the village men could barely keep their eyes off her.

Pity he'd never look at him that way.

At least his words were enough to satisfy Mama, for the time being. She put down her mirror and paintbrush and settled herself on the porch. Her eyes remained on him and Grandpa.

Grandpa picked up Jatou and began to fold up the blades. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "Maybe I should take another look at Jatou."

Makoto shook his head. "It works for you, right?"

Grandpa gave him a wry smile. "Not the first time." He pulled up his sleeve to display a silvery scar. "Jatou's bit me more than once. Maybe we should-"

"Shun'ichi?" Onuki-sama's voice came clear across the yard. He stood at ease, his bokken still in his hand. He hadn't made a move since Makoto's fall.

"Onuki-sama?" Grandpa bowed his head in respect.

"May I test the blade?"

Grandpa made a deep bow. His eyes betrayed nothing. "It would be an honour, Onuki-sama."

The samurai bowed his head and strode across the yard. The bystanders' eyes grew wide. He took Jatou from Grandpa and tested its weight. His brow creased as he examined the sword.

Makoto fought the urge to fidget. It was wrong to begrudge Onuki-sama's desire but the sight of Jatou in someone else's hand filled his stomach with lead. He forced himself to wait.

Onuki-sama raised Jatou above his head. The sword caught the morning light and shone like a sunbeam. Makoto sucked in his breath. Aoi let out a gasp. The world slowed to a halt as the samurai drew back his arm.

And lowered it once more.

The blades remained sheathed. Makoto released his breath. Onuki-sama gave Grandpa a nod and held out Jatou.

"Onuki-sama?" Grandpa's wrinkles deepened.

"This is fine work indeed, Shun'ichi. The balance is perfect."

"It is very kind of you to say so, Onuki-sama." Grandpa's face remained fixed in a smile. "I see you have need of a new blade."

The lead in Makoto's stomach turned to ice.

"Thank you, Shun'ichi. But a katana will suffice." The samurai offered the sword to Makoto. "Try a little less force this time."

Makoto blinked. He glanced at Grandpa, who nodded his approval. Makoto laid his hand on Jatou's hilt, somehow managing to keep it from shaking.

Onuki-sama favoured him with a smile. "I believe this is yours, is it not?"

Makoto bowed his head in thanks. His fingers clasped Jatou's hilt. The snakeskin was still warm from the samurai's touch. He turned away before another blush could make its mark.

The target stood waiting.

He swallowed and raised Jatou above his head. A murmur rippled through the bystanders. One of the boys nudged Ichirou with his elbow. Ichirou snorted. Cold sweat trickled down Makoto's back.

He looked to Grandpa for support. However, it was Onuki-sama who spoke.

"Makoto." The samurai's voice was soft but firm. "Remember what you're aiming for."

Makoto stared at him. He received only a smile in response. He gave the samurai a small nod and fixed his gaze on the target. He lifted Jatou once more.

The murmurs grew louder.

Makoto drew back his arm. His hand was steady as a mountain. As his finger slipped over the catch, he caught sight of Ichirou's smirk in the corner of his vision.

How he longed to cut that smirk in two.

"Like he's going to hit anything with that dumb bendy sw-"

Makoto released his breath and let the blades fly.

Jatou unfurled like a whip. The blades sped towards the target. Their path was true as an arrow. The twelfth blade sheared clean through the bamboo.

This time, Makoto was ready for them. He tilted back his arm and retrieved the blades. The impact staggered him but he managed to stay on his feet. He caught his balance and turned to grin at his audience.

Grandpa beamed back at him. Mama couldn't help but smile. The villagers still couldn't shut their mouths, although they'd run out of words to fill them with. Ichirou had fallen straight off the fence.

But in that moment, he only had eyes for Onuki-sama.

The samurai's smile was soft as snow. His eyes held nothing but warmth. He didn't say a word but that hardly mattered. The pride in his eyes said more than enough.

Grandpa's hand ruffled his hair. He'd never looked so pleased. "What did I tell you, young man?"

Makoto's grin widened. "I-I did it!"

" 'Course you did." Grandpa turned to Mama, still beaming. "You've got nothing to worry about here, Ageha."

"So long as I've got my eye on the pair of you." She didn't stop smiling though.

Grandpa chuckled. "Oh, I can be sure of that." He looked up at Onuki-sama. "Although I think you deserve more credit than me."

The samurai laughed and raised his hands in protest. "Please, Shun'ichi. You've given him far more instruction than I have."

It was Grandpa's turn to raise his hands. "You flatter me, Onuki-sama. I'm more smith than swordsman. Makoto's a natural." His expression softened as he gazed at Makoto. "I haven't seen anyone handle Jatou like that since my boy."

Makoto's eyes grew soft. If it wasn't for Jatou, Grandpa's stories were all he'd have left of Papa. Mama spoke of him even less, though she'd never tried to find another husband. Papa's hut held a lot of memories for both of them.

Onuki-sama let out a cough. "If you're looking for work, the Onuki are always in need of smiths. My father has an eye for good steel."

Grandpa gave him a rueful smile. "You honour me. But I've seen more than enough of war, Onuki-sama. This is where I'll stay."

The samurai bowed his head. "I see." If Grandpa's words disappointed him, he was disciplined enough not to show it. "Although it's a shame there's so little demand for your skills in these parts. I would have thought there'd at least be someone to join your grandson for practice."

Makoto glanced in Ichirou's direction. He looked away, although not before Makoto glimpsed a sudden flush on his cheeks.

Onuki-sama followed his gaze. Ichirou was unable to meet the samurai's eyes. Onuki-sama turned back to Grandpa.

"My apologies, Shun'ichi. It seems I have another favour to ask of you."

Grandpa shook his head. "No need for apologies, Onuki-sama. What can I do for you?"

"Well, as it happens, I too have need of a partner."

Makoto's eyes grew wide. Surely he couldn't be-

"Will you grant me this kindness, O-Ageha?" the samurai continued.

Mama fixed the samurai with a steady gaze. Fresh sweat broke out on Makoto's forehead. Finally, she made a small bow. "The kindness is yours, Onuki-sama."

Relief fell over Makoto like a blanket. Another grin spread across his face. "R-really? Um, I mean, thank you, Onuki-sama. Very much."

Onuki-sama smiled back at him. "I'm not up to sparring just yet but I can show you a few kata. If I have your permission, of course?" he asked Mama.

Mama returned the smile. "Of course."

Makoto's heart swelled in his chest. He couldn't resist a final look back at Ichirou. The older boy avoided his eyes. He put his arm around Aoi and called the others away. They left without so much as a glance in his direction.

Somehow, he didn't mind that so much anymore.

* * *

 _Constructive criticism is very welcome!_

I update around the beginning of each month.


	6. Bankotsu III

**DISCLAIMER:** Inuyasha and all of the characters featured in this fanfic are the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Publishing, Sunrise, Viz and all other respective copyright owners. I do not lay claim to these characters in any way, shape or form.

 **Author's notes:**

Sorry for the delay, everyone. I had several job applications to get through and an interview to prepare for, which meant writing had to go on the back burner for a while. Some parts of this chapter also proved rather tricky to write. Thank you all for your patience.

 **Glossary**

 _Onigiri_ \- a Japanese food made from white rice formed into triangular or cylinder shapes and often wrapped in seaweed. They can have a variety of fillings, including pickled plums or salted salmon.

* * *

 **Bankotsu III**

" _Rats_." Daisuke shuddered as one of the dying youkai let out a squeal. "Why did it have to be rats?"

Bankotsu held back a sigh. Clearing out a hut full of rat youkai wasn't quite what he'd had in mind. Even the largest one was no bigger than a boar. No doubt he and Jakotsu were cheaper than hiring a taji-ya. He shoved his bisento into the youkai's throat, silencing it.

Jakotsu shot him a grin. "Nothing like a challenge, eh?"

Bankotsu ignored him. Sarcasm was still better than silence. At least this should be more than enough to get them a room. The youkai hadn't managed to lay a single blow on him or Jakotsu but they'd done more than enough damage to the tanners' hides. By the looks of the bones littered around the floor they'd made off with more than a few corpses too. Hiroshi had certainly got his worth out of them.

He yanked his bisento free and wiped the blade on a patch of grass. Jakotsu wandered over to join him. He unslung Jakotsutou from his shoulder and bent down to give it a good wipe. He hummed to himself as he worked. The slaughter seemed to have cheered him up a little.

Bankotsu glanced over his shoulder at Daisuke and Hiroshi. Hiroshi stood with his arms folded across his chest, his bow slung over his shoulders. Daisuke hung back behind him, his spear trembling in his hands. He motioned for them to approach.

Daisuke edged towards them, his spear held ready. He stopped to give one of the youkai a nervous prod. "You got them all, right?" His hands were still shaking, despite his best efforts to calm them.

"Right." Bankotsu nudged Jakotsu with his elbow before he could start giggling.

Hiroshi curled his lip in disdain. The rat youkai hadn't fazed him but he'd been in no hurry to fight them either. At least he'd brought his torch. Hunting the youkai in near darkness might have been more of a challenge but it wouldn't have done the village any good.

Bankotsu strode towards the largest rat youkai and jabbed at it with his bisento. It made no sound. Better make sure. He took off its head in a single blow.

Bankotsu lifted the youkai's head up for Hiroshi's inspection. Hiroshi frowned.

"And this is?"

"Their mama. Rat youkai breed like crazy. Better seal up that hole in the floor if you don't want another brood."

Hiroshi nodded. He almost looked impressed. None of them had taken so much as a scratch from the youkai. Even the hut was still in one piece. Mostly.

"We'll start on that tomorrow. Daisuke will put you up for the night." Hiroshi turned on his heel and strode back towards the watchtower.

"Well, a 'thanks' would be nice," Jakotsu sighed.

Bankotsu gave him another nudge. "We didn't come here for the company." He turned to Daisuke. "Mind showing us the room?"

Daisuke let out a cough. "Well, actually, we don't have a guest hut. But you're more than welcome to spend the night at my place."

Bankotsu and Jakotsu exchanged glances.

This day just got better and better.

* * *

"... but you should have seen the one that got away!"

Bankotsu started as Jakotsu prodded him awake for the third time. If he could say one thing for Daisuke, he was the perfect cure for sleepless nights. Even Jakotsu was nodding off a bit.

The lack of attention didn't seem to bother Daisuke. He prattled on as his wife tended to the pot bubbling on the hearth. The scent of tea mixed with toasted rice wafted through the hut. Daisuke and his family had already eaten but he'd insisted on offering them some tea. Perhaps he thought it'd help them sit through his stories.

His wife had barely said a word since they'd come in. She sat hunched by the hearth, her eyes fixed on the pot. The hearth and a bamboo screen were the only furnishings they had, apart from a sleeping mat. Even the floor was just bare earth. No wonder the villagers were short on hospitality.

Bankotsu's eyelids were beginning to droop when Daisuke dropped a name that started him awake again.

"Akayoru?"

Daisuke blinked at the unfamiliar show of interest. "Sorry? You want some tea?" He offered him a cup.

Bankotsu took the cup. He wasn't big on tea but it was better than nothing. Jakotsu accepted one from Daisuke's wife. She shuffled back to her spot beside the hearth.

"Akayoru. He's with the bandits, right?" Bankotsu asked.

Jakotsu sat up a little straighter.

Daisuke cleared his throat. "To be honest, I don't really know all that much about them. I just spear the bastards if they get too close." He let out a nervous chuckle.

Bankotsu frowned. "You've fought them?"

"Well, they never stick around for long. Hiroshi says they've got themselves holed up in some old temple deep in the forest. Probably trying to stay out of Iwakami-sama's way."

Bankotsu sneaked a glance at Jakotsu. No reaction. Although he did seem very interested in his tea all of a sudden.

"Still, I wouldn't tangle with Akayoru if I were you," Daisuke continued. "Worst of the lot of them, Hiroshi says. That last village he passed through..." He gave a shudder.

"And what does Edo-sama have to say about all this?"

Daisuke's laugh caught in his throat. He gave another cough. "Well, the Daimyou has bigger things to worry about."

"Like the Onuki?"

Jakotsu's teacup clattered to the floor. Daisuke's head snapped round. A small girl peered from behind the screen with one hand clapped over her mouth. The other clutched a ragged blanket.

"I'm sure I sent you to bed, young lady."

"Sorry, Papa. I-I couldn't sleep." The girl stared at the two boys as if she'd never seen one before. "Who are these people?"

"Just a couple of guests. Some very _tired_ guests."

The girl's eyes widened as she caught sight of their weapons. "Are they here to fight the ban-"

"Hana. Bedtime. Now."

Hana stuck out her bottom lip. "But Papa-"

"Listen to your father, Hana." Daisuke's wife bent down to mop up Jakotsu's tea. Her eyes didn't leave the floor.

Hana deflated with a sigh. "Yes, Mama." She gave Jakotsu one last stare before she ducked behind the screen.

"Honestly..." Daisuke sighed. "Don't mind her. Things have been a little tense since that business in Sukegawa."

"Sukegawa?" Bankotsu frowned. "We were-"

Jakotsu got to his feet. "You have a free hut, right?"

Daisuke arched his brows. "You sure? I'm not having my guests sleeping on the floor."

Jakotsu shook his head. "It's fine. We'll let Hana-chan get some sleep."

"Well, if you-"

"Thanks." Jakotsu ducked out of the doorway without looking back.

Daisuke's wife lifted her eyes to watch him leave. Hana peeked out from behind her screen. Even Daisuke seemed at a loss.

Bankotsu resisted the urge to shake his head. He gave Daisuke and his family an apologetic smile. "Sorry, he's not been feeling too good. I'll go check on him."

Daisuke's wife looked him in the eye for the first time. "We can make space if you'd like to stay." Her gaze held more than a little worry.

"Ah, it's okay." Bankotsu gave a stretch and picked up his cup. "Uh, thanks for the tea."

Her gaze was still at his back as he slipped through the doorway.

* * *

Bankotsu soon retraced his footsteps. It didn't take much persuading to stop Daisuke from following him. The hut stood silent except for the faint scrape of stone on steel. A dim light glimmered from the doorway. The villagers had cleared away most of the corpses. The crows would take care of the rest come morning.

Bankotsu unshouldered his bisento and entered the hut. The villagers had also taken care of most of the mess. Jakotsu had shoved the rest of it into the furthest corner. He'd pushed a crate over the hole and pulled out a few empty sacks to sleep on. They'd both slept in worse spots.

Jakotsu was crouched beside a lantern, honing Jakotsutou's blades. He paid no attention to Bankotsu. Seeing him awake wasn't a surprise. Heavy sleepers didn't keep knives under their pillows.

Bankotsu propped his bisento against the wall and settled down beside it. "Hey."

"Hey." Jakotsu didn't even glance in his direction.

"I got you some more tea."

"Thanks." Jakotsu took the cup without looking at him. He set it down beside the lantern and reached for his whetstone.

"Listen. I know they were kind of-"

"They're scared, Bankotsu." Jakotsu's voice was as flat as his expression.

"But if the bandits come then we're-"

"They won't. Not when it's this dark."

Bankotsu furrowed his brows. "It's not like they had a problem with me staying."

"You don't look like a problem. You look ten."

Bankotsu gave him a blank stare. "And you do?"

"You saw what they thought." Jakotsu took a sip of his tea.

"What? Like you're going to eat me or something?"

Jakotsu's tea shot straight out of his nose. Bankotsu scrambled to his side. He patted Jakotsu's back until he sputtered. Jakotsu winced and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

"You okay? What's- oh. _Oh_."

Bankotsu's cheeks flushed pink. He looked away and busied himself with his carrying cloth.

Jakotsu hid a giggle behind his sleeve.

Well, that was a start. Bankotsu willed his blush away and began sorting through their supplies. He pulled out an onigiri and broke it in half. He offered the largest piece to Jakotsu.

"Here."

Jakotsu waved him away. "Thanks, but I'm good."

"You've had nothing since breakfast." Bankotsu frowned. "I thought you wanted to sleep?"

"You need it more than I do."

Bankotsu suppressed a sigh. "Jakotsu, you're shattered. Just take a break. You've been like this since-"

"Bankotsu..." Jakotsu put down his whetstone and fixed him with a stare. "How many times to I have to tell you to forget about-"

"Okay, forget him. I'm asking about _you_."

Jakotsu's eyes widened. "Me?"

"This isn't like you. Why won't you-"

"I'm not-" Jakotsu's breath caught in his throat. His voice trailed away. A flash of something indescribable crossed his face.

And was gone before Bankotsu could grasp it.

"Okay, you win."

Bankotsu cocked his head to one side and blinked.

Jakotsu heaved a sigh. "I'm going to sleep." He blew out the lantern and settled down on the sacking. "Happy?"

" _Jakotsu._ "

Jakotsu didn't answer. The sacks rustled as he shifted his body. Bankotsu leaned closer.

"You can talk to me you know."

His only reply was silence.

* * *

Bankotsu's eyes opened to darkness. The village was still as death. The only light came from the stars peeking through a gap in the roof. The hut was silent as ever.

He'd spent the last few hours drifting in and out of sleep, never able to stay in one state for long. Jakotsu's mood was catching. His silence hadn't helped much either. Though to tell the truth, it was his eyes that bothered him. He'd never looked so... hunted.

Sleep wasn't coming any time soon. Bankotsu rubbed his eyes and rolled onto his stomach. He inched towards Jakotsu and reached out to tap his shoulder. Better cut to the chase.

His hand found only empty sacks.

* * *

 _Constructive criticism is very welcome!_

I update once a month.


	7. Makoto IV

**DISCLAIMER:** Inuyasha and all of the characters featured in this fanfic are the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Publishing, Sunrise, Viz and all other respective copyright owners. I do not lay claim to these characters in any way, shape or form.

 **Author's notes:**

Again, sorry for the delay. Jobseeking and fanfic deadlines don't mix.

This is the point where things start to get more intense. The author's note in the prologue has a full list of content warnings for anyone who'd rather go in prepared.

 **Glossary**

 _Haori_ \- a traditional Japanese jacket, worn over a kosode. It is worn open or tied by a string that connects at the lapels.

* * *

 **Makoto IV**

"Ready, Makoto?"

Makoto nodded. Three targets stood waiting, spaced in a diagonal line. Three silent soldiers. He drew back his arm, took aim and let the blades fly.

Jatou tore through them like paper.

Makoto retrieved the blades. He met Onuki-sama's smile with a broad grin.

"Got 'em!"

"Not quite." Onuki-sama tossed a piece of bamboo towards him.

Makoto was more than ready for it. The bamboo hit the ground in two neat halves.

"You know, you've really been coming along lately."

Grandpa gave a chuckle. He leant against the fence besides Mama. His forehead shone with sweat from a morning's work at the forge. Mama was bundling up some hairpins to take to market. Both were smiling. Even the air felt warmer today. At this rate, Onuki-sama would soon be able to return home.

If only the snows would last a little longer.

Grandpa heaved a mock sigh. "Honestly. I'm going to run out of bamboo at this rate."

Onuki-sama responded with a laugh. "Perhaps he could do with more of a challenge?"

Makoto cocked his head to one side. "Challenge?"

Onuki-sama cleared his throat. "Well, I was thinking of something a bit more-"

"Onuki-sama!"

Makoto's head snapped round at the familiar voice. Ume-sama strode towards them, her face set hard as stone. Her bow was strung ready in her hand. She carried a full quiver on her back. A horse stood pawing the ground behind her, accompanied by a nervous village boy clutching its reins.

"Ume-sama!" Mama gave her a wave. "I was just off to the market-"

"There'll be no market today, Ageha." Ume-sama's voice was as firm as her expression.

"Ume-sama?" Mama paused as she caught sight of the look in the older woman's eyes. She turned to stare into the distance.

"Mama?" Makoto followed her gaze. The valley looked as peaceful as ever. The hills were still clad in snow. Yet he glimpsed a shadow on the edge of the horizon. A finger of smoke trailed off into the sky.

"Makoto, get back inside." Mama's tone was even harder than Ume-sama's.

"But-"

"Inside, Makoto." Grandpa sounded just as serious.

Makoto turned to his last source of support. "Onuki-sama?"

"Not today, Makoto." Onuki-sama's voice was soft as a shadow. He turned to the miko. "I shall have to borrow your horse, Ume-sama."

Ume-sama gave him a nod. "Of course, Onuki-sama."

Makoto frowned. "Where are you-"

"The guard post. We still have time."

There was no trace of warmth left in his eyes.

* * *

It was almost sunset when the screams began.

Makoto gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on his sword. Listening was even harder than waiting. Mama squeezed his shoulder. At least they'd let him keep Jatou. Hiding behind a screen wasn't quite so shameful when he had a blade to hand.

The distant shouts drew closer. The clash of steel rang in his ears. He tensed as an arrow thudded into the wall outside. He caught the tang of smoke and the crackle of flame. Mama's arms drew tighter around him.

"It's okay. They won't-"

A cry ripped through the air. One of the bandits gave a shout of triumph. There was a low moan as a body thudded to the ground.

"Gran-"

Makoto's voice was stopped by Mama's hand. She gasped as the screen was ripped aside.

Three bandits towered over them. Two held spears slick with blood. The tallest of the three wielded a rusted katana. Gore dripped from the blade. Grandpa lay slumped behind them, clutching his wounded shoulder.

The tall bandit broke into a grin. "Looks like you had something worth hiding after all, old man."

Makoto loosened Jatou from its sheath. Mama grabbed his wrist. She met the bandit's gaze with her hardest stare.

"Lay one hand on him and you'll regret it."

Grandpa cast her a worried glance. "Ageha..." His voice was as strained as his face.

The bandit's grin widened. "Guess I'll just have to take you then."

He shoved Makoto aside and yanked her towards him. She screamed and twisted his grasp. He caught her wrist, stopping her strike in mid-air. He gave an ugly laugh.

"I wouldn't try anything if I were you. You might get to live a bit longer that way."

Makoto made a rush for the swordsman. One of the others knocked him flat with his spear butt. He levelled the spear at Makoto.

"Try that again and you'll-"

"Fuck!"

The swordsman dropped his blade and doubled over. Blood seeped from his leg. Grandpa crouched behind him, gripping a pair of fire tongs.

Mama slipped from the bandit's grasp and scrambled to Makoto's side.

The swordsman gave a yell and turned on Grandpa. Grandpa was more than ready. He snatched up his blade and slashed the bandit open from groin to shoulder.

The spearman cursed and rushed forwards. Grandpa let him come. The bandit thrust his spear towards him. Grandpa turned aside. He gave a grunt as the spearpoint grazed his ribs. He grabbed the spear's haft and slashed the bandit's neck open.

The third bandit took one look at Grandpa and went for Mama. He grabbed her hair and raised his spear.

"One move and the bitch d-"

His voice caught in his throat as Makoto thrust Jatou into his side.

The bandit gaped at the sword protruding from his ribs. Makoto stared back as he began to twitch and gurgle. The bandit sank to his knees, losing his grip on Mama's arm. Makoto stood frozen. His eyes widened as blood trickled from the bandit's mouth.

"Makoto!" Grandpa gestured towards the exit. His hand was wet with blood. "Hurry!"

A fourth bandit rushed through the doorway.

Grandpa started and turned to meet his charge. His guard came up to block the bandit's spear. A fraction too late.

The spear took him straight in the chest.

"Grandpa!"

Grandpa toppled to the floor. The bandit yanked his spear from his chest. A smirk rose to his lips.

"Tch, the old fart had it com-"

Makoto was on him in a flash. The bandit didn't even have time to raise his spear. He took him down in a single blow.

He wiped his sword and stood over the fallen bandit, chest heaving. His hands shook like leaves. Tears tugged at the corner of his eyes. It was all he could do to keep his grip on Jatou.

Mama squeezed his arm.

"Hurry, Makoto. For Grandpa." She took his hand and pressed onwards, tears trailing down her face.

He forced his feet to follow. Smoke stung his eyes as they neared the entrance. He glimpsed a group of bandits through the haze. They glared at the two figures in the doorway. Swords and spears glistened in the sunset. Every blade was streaked with blood.

 _Grandpa._

A swell of rage rose in his throat. He clenched his teeth and sent Jatou hurtling towards them.

The bandits didn't even have time to scream. Jatou's blades tore through them as if they were no more than straw. Three men fell screaming.

Their comrades gaped at Makoto as if he'd grown an extra head. One even dropped his spear. The din of battle began to ebb as more men turned to stare. None of them dared move a step closer.

Their leader wasn't cowed so easily. He glared down at his men from horseback, his eyes blazing.

"Don't tell me you're afraid of that brat." He pointed his battleaxe towards Makoto. "Half the plunder goes to whoever brings me that sword."

The bandits' greed soon overcame their fear. They raised their spears and began to circle the hut. The creak of bowstrings hung in the air. Makoto darted back inside, pulling Mama with him. A barrage of arrows shot towards them. Two arrows buried themselves in the wall, mere inches away from his head.

"Hold fire!" The leader's voice rang from outside the hut.

Makoto let out his breath. Mama squeezed his arm. He looked up. Smoke was already pooling in the rafters. There was only one place to go.

He sneaked a look round the doorway. His eyes shot wide as a wave of bandits surged forwards.

He braced himself and lashed out with Jatou. Two more men fell to its blades. The others pressed on, their spears poised. Makoto pushed onwards, Mama at his heels. He struck again. A bandit howled as his sword arm was torn from his body.

Mama let out a scream.

His head snapped towards her. A wounded bandit clutched at her ankle. "Mama!"

She grabbed a broken spear and drove it into the bandit's back. "Makoto! Look-"

Her voice gave way to another scream.

He brought Jatou up just in time to block a katana coming down on his head.

His opponent pulled back. His companion jabbed at Makoto's side. His spearpoint pierced thin air as Makoto slipped away. The bandit screamed as Jatou bit deep into his flesh.

Makoto swore and grasped Jatou's hilt in both hands. He tore the blade free and spun to meet his opponent.

A spear butt slammed into his chest.

Makoto retched. He dropped to one knee, fighting to keep his grip on Jatou. Another bandit grabbed him from behind. He tried to rise, only for two others to pin his arms. He let out a strangled curse as Jatou was torn from his grasp. Mama's screams rang desperate in his ears.

His opponent grinned. His yellowed teeth glinted as he raised his sword. Makoto swore he wouldn't look away.

"Wait."

The bandit paused. He turned to gawp at his leader.

The leader urged his horse forwards. The bandits moved aside to clear his path. His eyes narrowed as he took stock of his dead and dying men. He reined up and gestured towards Makoto with his battleaxe.

"Bring him here."

The bandit lowered his spear. His comrades hauled Makoto to his feet. He stumbled as they shoved him forwards. His eyes searched for any hope of help, only to be met with the dead and the dying. He caught a glimpse of Mama's stricken face and dug his heels into the mud.

One of the bandits snorted and kicked him in the shin. Makoto yelped and lost his footing. They dragged him onwards, ignoring his kicks and screams.

The leader dismounted as they approached. He handed his reins to one of his underlings and removed his helmet. He shook out a mane of grizzled hair and wiped his brow. A second bandit took the helmet. A third knelt down and offered him Jatou.

He took the sword and held it up to the waning light. Satisfaction glittered in his eyes. He studied the blade for a few moments, then wiped it clean and thrust it into his sash. He turned his gaze on Makoto. A smirk rose to his lips.

"Three of you? For this little thing?"

Makoto gave him the harshest glare he could muster.

That only seemed to amuse him. "At least you don't lack spirit."

He reached out and took Makoto by the chin. Makoto's eyes widened as he forced him to meet his gaze.

"Get away from him! You bast-" Mama was silenced by a spear butt.

"Shut it, bitch." The leader growled. He didn't give her so much as a glance.

Fear skittered down Makoto's spine as the bandit caressed his cheek. A menacing smile played across the man's face.

"Still, it'd be a shame to waste a face as pretty as yours."

Makoto drove his knee straight into his groin.

His knee struck armour. The leader winced and let out a grunt. The bandits gasped.

The leader's face grew dark as thunder. His fists grew tight. He slammed a punch into Makoto's chest.

Mama's cry was cut short by another blow.

Makoto's legs crumpled beneath him. He dropped to his knees, retching. The leader grasped a fistful of his hair and yanked his head upwards.

Makoto flinched as he brought his face level with his crotch. He tried to pull away but the bandits held him fast. Before he could say a word the axe was at his throat.

"Now, that wasn't a very good idea, was it?" He shoved Makoto's face closer to his groin. Makoto gagged at the reek of stale sweat. The leader's smile was pure malice.

"Looks like you owe me an apology."

His eyes shot wide as an arrow pierced his skull.

The leader toppled sideways with a moan. His axe clattered to the ground. The bandits gaped as blood seeped from his broken skull.

"Over there!" One of the bandits waved his spear towards the woods.

A band of soldiers burst from the trees. Some rode horses, others followed on foot. All wore banners at their backs. A mounted samurai led the charge. He was armoured from head to foot, a drawn longbow in his hands. Makoto couldn't make out his face but the firelight gave him a glimpse of his crest.

A single wisteria flower.

"Onuki-sama..."

The samurai loosed his bow. Another bandit fell screaming.

Some of the bandits rushed forwards to join the fray. The others scrambled for cover. All except the two holding Makoto. They stood trembling as battle broke out once more.

Onuki-sama slung the bow over his shoulder and drew his katana. He put his heels to his horse and thundered towards Makoto. The soldiers followed in his wake.

Two bandits raised their spears to meet the charge. Onuki-sama veered right. His naginata took down the first bandit. The second fell to an arrow before he could regain his bearings.

Onuki-sama pressed on. Makoto's captors gripped him tighter. One of them began to drag him away, urging his companion to help. He stayed rooted to the spot. The braver of the two bandits cursed and reached for his sword. He was silenced by an arrow to the throat.

His companion balked and threw Makoto aside. Makoto winced as he hit the ground face first. He spat out mud and rolled to his feet. He looked up just in time to see an arrow take the bandit in the shoulder.

The bandit yelled, tripped and crashed to the ground. He pushed himself to his feet, only to discover that the samurai had surrounded him.

Onuki-sama reined up his mount and slid from the saddle. The bandit scuffled backwards as he approached. His eyes looked ready to burst from their sockets. Cold sweat trickled down his face.

"Please, I only - th-the boss said-"

Onuki-sama cut off his protests at the neck.

The bandit's head hit the ground, his mouth still frozen in surprise. His body slumped down to join it. Onuki-sama gave him a look of pure contempt and wiped his blade on the dead man's kosode.

Makoto's legs were shaking so much he could barely stand. Death was everywhere he looked. Mangled corpses littered the ground. Dying men lay groaning in pools of blood. Bile rose in his throat as he caught the reek of charred flesh.

His eyes scanned the village for any signs of survivors. Ume-sama was slumped face down in the mud, her bow splintered in two. Half a dozen bandits lay around her, each with an arrow in his chest. Aoi was cradling Ichirou's body. Her bloodstained kosode hung off her shoulders in tatters. A handful of villagers huddled before the samurai, clinging to each other for support. He searched their faces, desperate for any sign of Mama.

A faint voice came from behind him. "Makoto..."

"Mama?" He whirled round and made out a figure lying in the mud, several feet away from Grandpa's hut. He rushed to her side. The samurai let him pass. His sprint slowed to a halt as he caught sight of the spear buried in her back.

"Mama!" Makoto tore off the remains of his haori and crouched beside her. He held the cloth to her wound, swore and threw it aside. He choked back a sob. _Stupid._ That wouldn't-

"Here." Onuki-sama knelt down beside him and inspected her wound. Makoto held his breath. Onuki-sama closed his eyes and bowed his head.

"Forgive me, O-Ageha."

Mama shook her head. "You saved..."

"Mama?" Makoto bit his lip as tears began to fog his eyes. "Mama, you're not going to-"

"Ma...koto..." Mama gave him a pained smile. She reached up and brushed a tear from his cheek.

"Please..." She turned her wavering gaze on Onuki-sama. "Take care..."

Her hand fell limp.

"Mama!" Makoto sobbed and threw his arms around her. "Mama!" His voice gave way to tears.

Sobs wracked Makoto's body as he buried his face in Mama's shoulder. A hand settled on his back. Onuki-sama put his arm around Makoto's shoulders. He didn't speak a word.

The sun set on Mama's final breath.

* * *

 _Constructive criticism is very welcome!_

I update once a month.


	8. Bankotsu IV

**DISCLAIMER:** Inuyasha and all of the characters featured in this fanfic are the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Publishing, Sunrise, Viz and all other respective copyright owners. I do not lay claim to these characters in any way, shape or form.

 **Author's notes:**

I'll admit this one's not quite as long as the previous chapter. At least I got it finished on time?

Also, thank you once again to Shadythief and Team Wingless for your reviews. Comments, reviews and/or critiques are always welcome!

 **Glossary**

 _Shinobi_ \- A covert agent or mercenary. They specialised in espionage, sabotage, infiltration, assassination and guerilla warfare. Basically the Sengoku Jidai equivalent of a ninja.

 _Jizou_ \- A deity who protects travellers and children. He is also the patron deity of deceased children and aborted foetuses. His statues are often placed at the intersections of roads and paths to ensure that the right way will be chosen.

* * *

 **Bankotsu IV**

Bankotsu's fist closed around thin air. His breath froze in his throat. His heart leapt up to join it.

"Ja-"

A hand clamped over his mouth.

He didn't have time to scream. His attacker slammed him to the floor. He thrashed beneath him, twisting and writhing. The stranger clung to him like a leech. He pushed himself up on one elbow, only to be flattened again. He bit down and sank his teeth into man's fingers.

The stranger let out a choked squeal.

 _Jakotsu?_ Bankotsu stopped squirming and released his bite. The older boy's breath came heavy in his ears. His hand remained over his mouth.

Bankotsu was about to pull his hand away when a creak sounded from the roof.

"Don't. Move."

Jakotsu's whisper was his only warning. A dart slammed into the floorboards, inches from his head. Jakotsu gave a yelp and rolled across him. His body fell limp .

The roof gave another creak. Both boys stayed still as death. Hushed voices came from outside the hut. Moonlight slanted through the doorway as the curtain was drawn aside.

Two shinobi stole into the hut. Each was swathed in cloth from head to foot. Only their eyes were visible. They paused to examine the two boys lying on the floor. One gave a nod and crept closer. He bent down to check Jakotsu's breathing.

Jakotsu was on him in a flash.

His companion rushed to his aid. Bankotsu tackled his legs. He rammed his shoulder into the shinobi's ribs and took him down. He had him pinned with a knife to his throat before he could draw another breath.

"Who sent you?"

The man gave no reply.

Bankotsu pressed the knife deeper into his throat. A trickle of blood welled from the shinobi's neck.

"Who?"

The shinobi coughed and gagged. Bankotsu frowned as a series of coughs racked his body. His eyes widened as the shinobi's head fell back and hit the floor.

He was dead in seconds.

Bankotsu swore under his breath and tore the mask from the shinobi's face. His mouth lay open and foaming. Whatever he'd swallowed had to be pretty potent. His pulse was as still as the night.

He shot a glance at Jakotsu. The shinobi beneath him had suffered the same fate.

 _Shit_.

He rifled through the shinobi's kosode for any clues to his identity. His search revealed only a dagger, two smoke bombs and a few more darts. He pressed half the darts and a smoke bomb into Jakotsu's hands.

"Here. We might-"

"Are you boys okay in there?" A low voice asked from outside the hut.

 _Daisuke?_ Bankotsu tensed. Jakotsu put his finger to his lips. He stuffed the bomb inside his kosode and slipped a dart inside his sleeve. He sidled past Bankotsu without a word.

Bankotsu gave him a questioning look. Jakotsu paid him no mind. He slunk towards the doorway and pressed himself against the wall.

They waited with bated breath.

"Guess I'd better check on them." Daisuke pushed the curtain aside and entered the hut. "Is everything-"

Jakotsu yanked Daisuke backwards and shoved his hand over his mouth. He plunged the dart straight into his neck.

Daisuke gave a muffled yell and thrashed in Jakotsu's grip. Jakotsu clung to him until the fight left his body. Daisuke slumped against him with a shudder. He laid him down without a sound.

"What the hell?" Bankotsu hissed.

"He would've screamed." There was no missing the tremor in Jakotsu's voice.

"That's still not-"

"He'd talk." Jakotsu's voice shook like a taut rope. He grabbed Bankotsu's arm. "We should go."

Bankotsu twisted his arm free. "Quit grabbing me."

Jakotsu's hand fell to his side. Even in the darkness it was clear he was shaking. "We should go." He repeated. His tone was almost apologetic.

Bankotsu bit back his anger and took stock of their situation. At this rate, it wouldn't take long for Hiroshi and company to show up. Go outside and they'd be sitting ducks if there were any more shinobi about. Then again, staying inside wouldn't be safe for much longer. Unless...

"Okay, we're getting out of here. Keep your eyes on the door."

Jakotsu gave him what might have been a nod. He unsheathed his sword and slipped back into the shadows. His chest was still heaving.

Bankotsu groped his way along the wall until his foot caught on a crack in the floorboards. He reached out and found the crate. He lifted it with ease. Setting it back down was a little trickier. He swallowed a few more swearwords as his feet teetered on the edge of the hole.

"Bankotsu..."

"Shhh." He put down the crate and fumbled for the wall. It didn't take him long to find his bisento. He retraced his footsteps and paused on the edge of the hole. He prodded his bisento into the darkness. It was deeper than he'd expected, maybe six feet. A little wider too. They might just-

"They're coming." Jakotsu's voice was urgent.

"Bring the lantern. Stay close. "

Bankotsu took a deep breath. He gripped his bisento and leapt down the hole.

His feet landed in soft earth and Buddha knew what else. The tunnel was pitch dark but at least he wouldn't have to crawl the whole way. His nose was grateful. He glanced up and caught Jakotsu's outline on the edge of the pit.

"Jump."

He scrambled aside just in time to stop Jakotsu from flattening him.

Jakotsu swore and scrambled to his knees. There was a few moments' scuffling before he lit the lantern. Pale light flickered around them, scattering the shadows. Faint voices came from above them, growing louder and more urgent by the second. There was only one way to go.

He glanced over his shoulder at Jakotsu. "If we get split up, meet me by the Jizou statue at the crossroads."

Jakotsu nodded and fell in behind him.

The tunnel was longer than he'd expected. Deeper and danker too. The wan light was barely enough to guide his footsteps. Jakotsu was soon on his knees, his sword sheathed against his back. Bankotsu could get away with crouching, although he had to drag his bisento along the ground. He pressed on, ignoring the bile at the back of his throat.

He was on the brink of choking when the tunnel began to slope mercifully upwards. Cool air wafted towards them. He tilted his head back and glimpsed starlight. Almost there.

A shadow fell across the entrance.

Bankotsu's footsteps ground to a halt. Jakotsu almost dropped his lantern. They held their breath as the shadow loomed closer. Bankotsu reached into his kosode.

His dart thudded into the sentry's thigh.

The man gave a gasp and clutched at his leg. Bankotsu hurled another dart at him before he could shout the others. The sentry keeled forwards and slumped to the ground. Right across the tunnel's entrance.

Bankotsu scrambled towards him. He shoved the man's body away and poked his head above ground.

The tunnel emerged from a wooded bank to the east of the village, opposite the river. They were well clear of the trench. There wasn't another sentry in sight. He hauled himself out of the tunnel and let out a small sigh. Jakotsu passed him his bisento and clambered up to join him.

Bankotsu scanned the clearing for any signs of movement. The night was still as ever. He turned to Jakotsu. "Looks like we-"

"Get down!"

Bankotsu ducked aside as a dart whistled past him. He scrambled for cover. Jakotsu shot off in the opposite direction.

Bankotsu dodged behind a bush. He cast his eyes upwards, searching the trees for any signs of shinobi. The branches above him shivered. He reached for another dart.

A cry came from the village. "Over there!"

The branches rustled. Bankotsu's shoulders tensed. Before he could make another move a group of watchmen emerged from behind the watchtower, torches and spears in hand. They took one look at the commotion and broke into a charge.

"Shit!"

Bankotsu reached into his kosode. His hand stopped short as a bang sounded from behind him. He covered his mouth as a wave of smoke rushed past.

"Run!"

Jakotsu didn't have to tell him twice. Bankotsu took one look at the choking watchmen and hurled his smoke bomb towards them. The explosion was met with coughs and curses.

He took off through the forest as the night broke into chaos.

* * *

 _Constructive criticism is very welcome!_

I update once a month.


	9. Makoto V

**DISCLAIMER:** Inuyasha and all of the characters featured in this fanfic are the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Publishing, Sunrise, Viz and all other respective copyright owners. I do not lay claim to these characters in any way, shape or form.

 **Author's notes:**

This one ended up being much longer than I expected. So I hope that makes up for the delay.

 **Glossary**

 _Uchikake_ \- A formal, heavily brocaded kimono worn over the kosode without an obi, like a coat. Women would sometimes drape them over their heads to protect them from the sun.

* * *

 **Makoto V**

The first glimpse was enough to shock him out of silence.

There'd been no shortage of castles in Mama's paintings. He'd watched her brush raise towers from the mists countless times. Yet no painting could ever capture the sheer enormity of this mountain of stone and timber. Even the local temple was a mere molehill by comparison. His eyes couldn't get wide enough to take it all in.

"Is that-"

Onuki-sama's smile returned for the first time in three days. "Our family castle."

He urged his horse closer to the path's edge, allowing them a better view. His smile widened as he caught sight of Makoto's awestruck face. "I guess it's not the kind of thing you'd see every day."

Makoto still couldn't tear his eyes away, even for Onuki-sama. It had taken them nearly three days' hard travel to reach the Onuki clan's fortress. He'd spent most of it huddled down in the saddle, willing himself blind and deaf to his surroundings. No matter how far he retreated into his thoughts, he couldn't shut out the screams. Yet faced with a sight like this...

The castle's surroundings were even more breathtaking, if that was possible. A range of snow-crested mountains rose behind the fortress, high and proud. The narrow valley below them was carpeted in dense forest. A hawk wheeled overhead, coasting on the morning breeze. Mama would have had no shortage of subjects to choose from here. A tear rose to his eye. He sniffed it back.

"It's amazing."

"We'll be staying there tonight. I'm sure my father won't mind you-"

A sudden shout drew his gaze downwards.

A small hunting party had gathered in the forest below. Three dogs milled around them, yipping in excitement. The samurai rode, their servants walked. They wore no armour but their hunting bows were more than powerful enough to kill a man. Wisteria banners fluttered at their backs.

"Are they-"

Makoto never got to finish his sentence. The hawk gave a cry and swooped down towards them.

The horse whinnied and shied away. Makoto grabbed the saddle. Onuki-sama seized the reins and hushed his mount.

The hawk settled on a crooked tree jutting from the cliff face above them. A female goshawk, judging by her size, bright and keen-eyed. She peered down at Onuki-sama and gave a chittering cry.

"Kaze?" Onuki-sama took the reins in one hand and held out the other. The goshawk leapt from the branch and flew down to settle on his vambrace. The horse snorted but made no attempt to bolt.

Makoto stared at the tame hawk. She regarded him with curious eyes. He'd seen many a goshawk winging its way through the forest but this was the first time he'd been so close to one. He reached out and paused, his hand hovering in mid-air.

"Um, is she... yours?" he asked.

Onuki-sama gave a nod. "Kaze's the first hawk I ever had. I didn't think she'd recognise me from that distance." He smiled as he caught sight of Makoto's outstretched fingers. "I'd keep your hands to yourself though. She's been known to bite."

Makoto withdrew his hand. Another shout came from the group of samurai before he could ask any more questions. The foremost of the group gave Onuki-sama a broad wave.

Onuki-sama's smile broke into a grin. "Ready, Makoto?"

Makoto barely had time to nod. Onuki-sama put his heels to his horse and broke into a canter. Kaze took to the air. By the time they reached the valley's floor the horse had come to a gallop.

The samurai surged forwards to meet them. One of his retainers gave a yell and cantered off behind him. Onuki-sama pressed on. They reined up within a few feet of each other, laughing and panting. Kaze settled on a nearby pine.

The samurai greeted them with a grin as wild as the inky hair blowing around his shoulders. His stallion was the largest Makoto had ever seen but even he was little more than a pony next to his rider. Onuki-sama was taller than any of the men in his village but this samurai overlooked him by at least half a head. His grin was bright yet his eyes were grey as winter storm. Makoto drew back against Onuki-sama as they fell on him.

"Took your time eh, Yoshihiko?"

Onuki-sama answered him with another laugh. "You're not one to be kept waiting, Sukemori." He passed the reins to Makoto and dismounted. He helped Makoto down before turning back to the samurai. "You remember how to hold him, right?"

Makoto nodded. Sukemori slid from his saddle and motioned for his retainer to do the same. He thrust his reins into the retainer's hands and strode towards Onuki-sama. Within three strides he had him enveloped in a massive bear hug.

"We had word of you two weeks ago. Nothing since." He gave Onuki-sama a hearty slap on the back. "What the hell took you so long?"

Onuki-sama remained unfazed, even though the bigger samurai was practically lifting him off the ground. "Another bandit attack."

Sukemori raised an eyebrow.

"That and I had some... business to attend to."

"Oh, so _that's_ what's been keeping you." Sukemori released Onuki-sama and turned his gaze on Makoto once more.

Makoto shifted on the spot as the samurai's eyes trailed down his body. Sukemori favoured him with a sly smile. "Care to introduce us, Onuki-sama?"

Makoto blinked. A flush rose to his cheeks, although he couldn't quite say why. He drew closer to Onuki-sama's side. Onuki-sama laid a hand on his shoulder.

Sukemori chuckled. "Doesn't say much, does he?"

Onuki-sama gave him a playful nudge in the ribs. "Don't tease him too much. He's had a rough few days." His smile stayed friendly but Makoto swore his grip tightened on his shoulder.

Sukemori returned the smile, although his was a little thin. "Wouldn't do to forget my manners, now, would it?" He released his gaze from Makoto, lingering only for a moment.

Onuki-sama's hand relaxed. He nudged Makoto's shoulder. Makoto gave Sukemori a low bow, thankful for the opportunity to hide his blush.

"This is Makoto." Onuki-sama patted his shoulder. "A survivor from the village. I'm hoping Nagisa might be able to find a place for him," he added.

Sukemori's smile was more relaxed this time. "Well, nice to meet you, kid. Guess I owe you an introduction too."

Onuki-sama shook his head, although his smile remained. "Very well then. Makoto, I'd like you to meet my oldest - and most impertinent - friend." He gestured towards Sukemori. "If you please."

A brief look passed between the two samurai. A ghost of a smirk hovered about Sukemori's lips. He bowed his head.

"Iwakami Sukemori."

* * *

The castle was more than ready for their arrival. Sentries peered down from the ramparts, their curiosity visible even from the streets below. Silken banners bedecked the walls and towers. The castle town was humming with excitement. A chorus of cheers followed their every footstep. Every street, alley and corner was crammed with people, the most he'd ever seen in his life. Even the temple was quiet by comparison. The soldiers ensured they kept a respectful distance.

Makoto peered through the crowds on tiptoe. Onuki-sama had asked him to dismount to make the climb easier for his flagging horse. It wouldn't do for the Daimyou's son to arrive on foot, after all. Kaze had accompanied the falconer once her wings grew tired. It was a shame to miss out on the view but the horse had more than earned a rest. He'd appreciated the piece of daikon radish Makoto had given him too.

He'd given Jatou to Onuki-sama. Peasants didn't tend to carry swords, especially not ones like Jatou. He'd promised he'd keep it safe for him. Makoto trusted his word but he couldn't help feeling exposed without it. He stayed close to his side as they neared the castle walls.

A pair of samurai awaited them at the gates. One stood tall and broad, a naginata in his hand. His face was tanned and weathered but his hair didn't have a single strand of grey. His gaze was firm and focused. The other could have passed for a merchant if it hadn't been for the wisteria crest on his haori and his paired swords. He was no taller than any of the peasants but much better fed. He greeted Onuki-sama with a stiff bow.

"Nephew. We are thankful for your safe return." His voice was polite but his face showed little sign of relief.

Onuki-sama returned the bow. "Uncle Masayoshi."

Makoto did a double-take. Surely he must have been talking to the other samurai? Yet the taller man stayed silent. Only his eyes betrayed his interest in the conversation. The short samurai cleared his throat.

"I hope you didn't have too much trouble on the road? There've been many tales of bandits."

"Well, we were doing pretty well until Kaze showed up," Onuki-sama laughed.

Masayoshi's smile was somewhat forced. "Glad to hear it. Our lord daimyou has been most anxious as of late."

"I understand, Uncle. I won't keep you any longer." Onuki-sama motioned for the guards to open the gate.

His uncle stepped aside to let them pass. The taller samurai bent over and whispered something in his ear. Makoto strained to catch his words but there was no chance of making out anything over the crowd's shouts and cheers.

The hunting party filed through the gates, Onuki-sama at their head. Makoto glanced over his shoulder as he passed through the gates. The townspeople were as delighted as ever. Uncle Masayoshi and his companion had already been swallowed up by the procession.

The daimyou and his household were assembled in the courtyard before the fortress. The willowy lady swathed in silks had to be Onuki-sama's mother. Even from this distance Makoto could tell where he'd got those chestnut eyes from. The daimyou stood waiting beside her, a slender grey stork of a man. Makoto guessed he had to be at least fifty, although he stood near as straight-backed as his son.

Uncle Masayoshi emerged from the throng to bow before the Daimyou. He was joined by a stout samurai who could have been his double - if he'd met him twenty years ago. His son, no doubt. No wives appeared to greet them.

Iwakami remained by Onuki-sama's side. The others prostrated themselves at the Daimyou's feet. Makoto did the same.

He couldn't help sneaking a look at Onuki-sama's wife. He'd almost missed her at first. Next to the lady of the castle she was little more than a child, a tiny mouse of a girl. She peered out from under her heavy uchikake, ready to dart back beneath it at any moment.

She was flanked by two servant women. The first was as gnarled as an old root. Her expression was as calm as a pond, yet cold as the mountains. The other couldn't have been more than twenty, though she was much sturdier than her mistress. The chubby baby bundled up in her arms was all smiles.

Onuki-sama greeted the Daimyou with a deep bow. His gaze remained fixed on the ground.

"Father."

The Daimyou inclined his head. "My son. It is good to see you well."

His voice was so steady he could have been talking about the weather. A true samurai. Only the lady's face showed the slightest sign of relief.

"Thank you, Father. I pray you are well?"

The daimyou gave him a stiff nod. Makoto toyed with his sleeve, trying - and failing - to avoid biting his lip. Even Iwakami stayed silent under the Daimyou's gaze. It fell to Onuki-sama's wife to break the silence.

"Husband." Her voice was little more than a whisper.

Onuki-sama gave her a smile. Makoto swore she shrank back a fraction under his gaze.

"O-Shizu."

"I have prayed long for your safe return." She still couldn't meet his eyes. Somehow, she looked even younger next to Onuki-sama.

"My thanks, O-Shizu. Your prayers have been answered." He turned to the maidservant. "And how's the little oni? Still keeping you up at all hours?"

The maidservant bowed. "No, young master. Everyone says he's the best-tempered babe they've ever met."

"Really now?" Onuki-sama took the gurgling bundle and raised him above his head. "Just look at this monster! He must be twice as big as when I last saw him!"

The baby giggled and beamed down at him. Onuki-sama answered with a smile of his own; the warmest he'd given since they'd set foot in the castle. The rest of his family remained as composed as ever.

The Daimyou cleared his throat. Onuki-sama handed his son back to the nursemaid and faced his father.

"I understand there is a matter you wish to bring to my attention." The Daimyou tilted his head in Makoto's direction.

Makoto drew back as all eyes turned on him. He clutched the horse's reins for support.

Onuki-sama lowered his head. "A small matter, Father. The family who took me in hoped I might be able to find a place for their son." His voice gave nothing away.

The Daimyou's forehead creased. He studied Makoto for a few moments before turning to the old servant. They exchanged a brief glance.

The servant answered him with a bow. "My lord Daimyou."

"Nagisa, take this boy to the servants' quarters. I'm sure you can find a job for him."

Makoto frowned. He looked to Onuki-sama for support. The samurai avoided his gaze.

"At once, my lord." The servant spoke before he could get a word in edgeways. "Come this way."

Makoto hesitated. Iwakami nudged him forwards.

"You heard him, kid. The Daimyou doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Makoto nodded. He fell in behind Nagisa. She didn't even check to see if he was following her. At least that gave him the opportunity to look back. He glanced over his shoulder, only to see Onuki-sama disappear inside the fortress, Iwakami in tow.

Hopefully, the Daimyou wouldn't keep him too long.

* * *

"Such skinny arms."

Nagisa's frown was etched so deep on her face she must have been born with it. Makoto swallowed a reply and let her continue her inspection. She'd decided to put him to work right away, although he'd yet to come up with a task she thought would suit him. A couple of other servants had stopped to watch the afternoon's entertainment.

Nagisa paid them no mind. She took a few paces sideways and studied him from another angle. Her frown grew even deeper.

"You say your grandfather was a swordsmith. Did he teach you his trade?" Her tone suggested this was about as likely as Grandpa teaching him to fly.

Makoto had no choice but to shake his head. "Grandpa said I was too young. I used to fetch water and stuff for him, though." Besides, Grandpa hadn't cared much for making katanas since the war.

Her frown didn't waver in the slightest.

A lump rose in Makoto's throat. He swallowed it down and racked his brains for any skill he could turn to his advantage. "I can chop wood?" he offered. It sounded even more pathetic out loud.

A flicker of disbelief crossed Nagisa's face. She hid it in an instant. She turned to the leathery old servant leaning against the wall. "Very well. Bring me an axe."

The old man cracked a smile. "You sure you didn't bring me a girl, Nagisa?" He brought the axe all the same.

Makoto bit back his irritation. They wouldn't get a single tear out of him. He took up the axe. He checked its weight and hefted it in one hand. The old man raised an eyebrow.

"Guess you're stronger than you look." He drew a log from the pile and placed it on the block. "Let's see you have a go then."

Makoto eyed up the log and raised the axe above his head. Even Nagisa looked surprised at that. He split the log clean in two.

Both the man's eyebrows shot up this time. "Hey, not bad." He gestured to a pile of firewood beside the wall. "We could do with an extra pair of hands around here. Think you're up to it?"

Makoto couldn't resist a little smirk. "I guess so."

Nagisa gave him a curt nod. "See you're finished by sunset. The cooks will need plenty of wood for tomorrow's banquet." She left him without another word.

* * *

Sunset came and went. Onuki-sama had yet to emerge from the fortress. Makoto couldn't say which ached more, his arms or his stomach. Just as he was about to put down the axe Nagisa emerged from behind the servants' wing.

"Well, I see you've finished." As unimpressed as ever. "There's a spare mat for you in the servants' quarters. The young master will see you in time."

"Um, is it okay if I wash first?" From the look on Nagisa's face, he mustn't smell too good.

He swore he caught Nagisa rolling her eyes. "Be quick about it." She pointed towards the well.

Makoto joined her in the servants' quarters after a quick scrub. They had to be bigger than all the huts in his village combined. The two old woodcutters were already settling down for the night on their sleeping mats. The other servants were clearing up the remains of their evening meal. The scent of roasted fish and miso soup told him the kitchens couldn't be far away. Hopefully, Nagisa hadn't heard his stomach.

Onuki-sama's servants all shared the westmost corner, apart from Nagisa and the nursemaid, who slept in their lady's room. All three of the others were boys. The two slim, pale youths had to be twins, as alike in dress as they were in features. Both their hakama and kosode were a deep indigo. The youngest was small and freckled, with wide open brown eyes. Unlike the twins, he made no effort to hide his stare.

"You'll sleep here." Nagisa pointed to a spare mat beside the three boys. "There's space for your belongings in the trunk. Be sure you're up before dawn." She turned away and set off back down the corridor.

Makoto stood on the spot, his hands toying with a loose strand of hair. Another lump was growing in his stomach. He tried a smile.

"Uh, hi? I'm Makoto."

Only the youngest boy smiled in return. He moved aside to make space for Makoto.

"I'm Kei."

Makoto knelt down beside him. "Thanks."

One of the women handed him a tray. "Sorry, it's not much. We usually eat at midday." She retreated to the far side of the room before he could thank her.

His eyes grew wide as he took in the tray's contents: a whole bowl of pure husked rice, served with a fresh egg, a bowl of miso soup and a side dish of pickles. He hadn't eaten so much as a grain of rice since the New Year's celebrations. He turned to Kei in disbelief.

"We get to eat rice?"

"Well, not every day." Kei scratched the back of his neck. "It's usually millet or barley. The Daimyou sometimes gives us the family's leftovers. When he's happy," he added, in a quieter tone.

Makoto was about to press him further when his stomach interrupted them with a growl. One of the other boys glanced towards him. Makoto gave a nervous titter and looked away.

Kei gave him a sympathetic look. "You hungry?"

He nodded. "Sorry. I haven't had anything since breakfast."

"Well, don't let me stop you." Kei rolled onto his side and left Makoto to his meal.

The rice was still warm. Makoto broke the egg over it, mixed in the yolk and dug in. He didn't put down the bowl until he'd scraped up every last grain. The soup and pickles went down just as quick. He gave a contented sigh and turned to the twins. Both of them avoided his eyes.

"Um, is it just me or is everyone kind of-"

"Quiet?" Kei glanced over his shoulder at the two older boys. "Don't worry about the twins; they're just shy. Though I guess everyone's been a little tense since-"

"Good job you can talk for six then, Kei-chan."

Kei started. He looked up and met Iwakami's obvious amusement. He gasped and prostrated himself on the mat, pushing Makoto down beside him. The twins were already on the floor.

"Iwakami-sama."

Iwakami chuckled. "We've been through the formalities. Heads up, you lot."

Makoto raised his eyes. Kei followed suit.

Iwakami motioned for him to stand. Kei sprang up beside him, only for Iwakami to wave him away. "Sorry, Kei-chan, you'll have to wait your turn."

Makoto cocked his head to one side. Iwakami grinned at his confusion.

"You're wanted in the garden. Best be quick about it."

"The gar-" Makoto caught sight of the look in Iwakami's eyes and checked himself. "I-I mean, of course, Iwakami-sama."

"Right. This way then." The samurai turned on his heel and set off.

Makoto didn't have much of a choice. He hurried after him as closely as he dared.

* * *

Keeping up with Iwakami was quite the challenge. The samurai's strides must have been double the length of his own. At least he wasn't in the mood for conversation. He led Makoto through a maze of rooms and passageways without so much as a glance behind him. Finally, they reached a secluded garden built into the mountainside next to the castle wall.

The garden was silent except for the trickle of a mountain stream and the call of a bush warbler. The stream wound down a cascade of mossy rocks, through the beds of shrubs and gravel and out through a small grate in the wall. It was spanned by an arching bridge. A weeping willow stood on the far bank, lit by the glow from a stone lantern.

The bird fluttered away as they approached. Iwakami halted before the bridge. "There you go."

Makoto reached for the bridge rail and paused. He glanced up at the samurai.

"Hey, he hasn't got all day, kid." Iwakami motioned for him to cross.

Makoto took a deep breath and set foot on the bridge. Iwakami nudged him to take another step. His feet hurried to obey. He couldn't get to the other side quick enough. He didn't have to look to know that Iwakami was smirking at him.

"That's more like it. Guess I should leave you two alone for a while." There was a rustle of silk as the samurai turned away.

Makoto stared at Iwakami's retreating back. He hadn't even left him a lantern. He was about to call him back when a voice spoke from the darkness.

"Makoto."

Makoto started. He spun on the spot and reached for his missing sword. A soft chuckle came from beneath the tree.

"Onuki-sama." He lowered his hand.

The samurai emerged from the shadows. He was freshly bathed and outfitted in a silken grey kosode and black hakama. His hair hung loose and flowing. He'd removed his armour but he still carried his paired swords. A soft smile graced his features.

"Did I startle you?"

"A-a little." Makoto admitted. "It's okay though - I mean, I knew it was you."

Onuki-sama's smile quirked upwards. "Did you now?" He stepped aside and beckoned him over. "There's a bench. Mind you don't trip over the roots." He sat back down beneath the tree's canopy.

Makoto fumbled towards him. Onuki-sama put out his arm to steady him. He took the samurai's hand for a brief moment before scooting over to the other side of the bench. Onuki-sama stayed put.

"So, how was your first day here? I hope Nagisa didn't work you too hard." His smile was almost teasing.

"Uh, n-no. Well, I mean I did but not too hard," he added. "The old guys said I was good. And Kei-chan was nice. They even gave us rice. And eggs." He was babbling again. He turned his head to hide his rising blush.

The samurai choked back a laugh. "I see. Well, I'm afraid I can't stay too long. My wife must be fretting again." His eyes softened at Makoto's crestfallen face. "I do have a little something for you though."

Onuki-sama bent down and withdrew a long, thin package from beneath the bench. Makoto's eyes widened. The samurai held it out with one hand. "I thought this might help you to settle in."

Makoto bowed as best he could. "Thank you, Onuki-sama."

Onuki-sama inclined his head. "You can open it now, if you like. No need to wait."

Makoto stared at him open-mouthed. "Really? Oh - uh, thanks!"

He set about unwrapping the bundle, his trembling fingers fumbling at the knots. He bit back a curse, reached into the wrapping and extracted the gift. Its polish caught the lamplight as he held it above his head.

A new bokken.

"Onuki-sama..."

"See you continue your practice, Makoto." Onuki-sama reached out and clasped his shoulder. "I wouldn't want my sparring partner to lose his touch."

The words dried up in Makoto's throat. Tears sprang to his eyes. Before he could register what he was doing, he'd dropped the bokken and buried his face in the samurai's chest. His shoulders shook with muffled sobs as everything came pouring out.

Onuki-sama froze. "Makoto?"

Makoto blinked. His face turned scarlet as he took in his perilous position. He tried to stammer an apology.

"I-I'm sorry. I..."

He pulled back, only to be stayed by Onuki-sama's hand.

"It's okay, Makoto." The samurai's voice was soft as the breeze. "Everything's going to be okay."

Makoto's eyes grew wide as Onuki-sama's arms encircled his shoulders. Before he could protest, the samurai had clasped him to his chest. His gasp was lost in the folds of his kosode.

Onuki-sama reached up and patted his hair. Makoto's heart skipped as the samurai began to run the strands through his fingers. His other hand rested on Makoto's back, holding him close. He pressed his face against the samurai's shoulder, his heart fluttering in his chest. Onuki-sama's voice was gentle in his ear.

"Nobody's taking you away from me."

* * *

 _Constructive criticism is very welcome!_

I update once a month.


	10. Bankotsu V

**DISCLAIMER:** Inuyasha and all of the characters featured in this fanfic are the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Publishing, Sunrise, Viz and all other respective copyright owners. I do not lay claim to these characters in any way, shape or form.

* * *

 **Bankotsu V**

Bankotsu woke with a start. Sleep and sunlight blurred his vision. Branches creaked above and below him. Birds flitted from treetop to treetop, exchanging snatches of song. Sleep had crept up on him unawares, followed by the dawn. Somehow, he'd made it through the night undisturbed.

He took stock of the view. The forest floor was silent except for a couple of squirrels scampering through the undergrowth. The breeze was clean and fresh. The village was still in sight, although he couldn't spot any signs of pursuers.

Jakotsu was nowhere to be seen.

He'd better get moving. The lack of light hadn't given him many hiding places to choose from. He yawned and stretched. The oak tree wasn't a bad spot, even if he'd ended up being closer to the ground than he'd like. And looming closer. He flung his arms around the branch as he teetered dangerously sideways.

He caught himself and relaxed his grip. A crow stared down at him, unimpressed. Another fluttered down to join it. If they were hoping for breakfast they weren't going to have much luck. He shook the sleep from his head and pushed himself back into a sitting position. The sooner he found Jakotsu, the better.

As for when he finally caught up with him...

He couldn't even begin to answer that question. Jakotsu had always been happy to talk, at least until yesterday. Yet now that he cast his thoughts back, he'd never told him where he'd come from. He'd never mentioned friends or family. He may as well have been a stranger for all he knew about him. He hadn't even told him his name.

Then again, he hadn't exactly pushed him too hard. Bankotsu couldn't say the past was his favourite subject. Better focus on the present for now.

He took one last look at his surroundings and tossed a pebble into the undergrowth. The squirrels scattered. The crows chattered and cawed. He'd wasted more than enough time. He pulled his knife from his kosode and clenched it between his teeth. He scrambled down the tree as quick as the squirrels.

He took the knife from his mouth and scanned his surroundings: as peaceful as ever. He sheathed his blade and reached into a crack in the trunk. He'd stashed his bisento there the night before. It had stayed well hidden. Those smoke bombs must have been made of powerful stuff. He shook his misgivings away and shouldered his bisento. Time to find Jizou.

He'd have his answers soon enough.

* * *

It didn't take long to find the statue. The sky stayed fresh and clear, despite the sun's heat. The forest chattered with life, yet none of it was human. Perhaps the villagers got their firewood elsewhere. He stayed amongst the trees just in case, keeping the path in sight.

Jizou stood alone, overlooking a small glade. The only signs of any visitors were a red bib and a rag doll that more than lived up to its name. He didn't even have a waypost for company. The path forked in four directions. The village lay to the west, Mito to the south. The north and eastward paths headed deeper into the forest. Neither was likely to hold much in the way of answers.

Should he wait? It wasn't like Jakotsu to break his word - or was it? At this point he honestly couldn't say. Either way, he'd better find him soon. If the villagers got to Jakotsu before he did, or worse, the shinobi-

A scream cut through the silence.

Bankotsu whipped round, swinging his bisento in a wide arc. The blade swept through empty air. He stood poised, straining to catch any further sounds.

Another scream ripped through the air. The dell. That one definitely came from the dell. Man or beast? It was hard to say. He edged forwards, his bisento at the ready.

A low groan rose from the glade as he approached. Laughter followed in its wake. Loud, joyful _murderous_ laughter.

At a time like this... Bankotsu gritted his teeth and crept towards the glade's edge. He'd have more than a few words for Jakotsu once this was over. Still, getting between Jakotsu and his prey wasn't a good idea if you wanted to hang on to your limbs.

He ducked behind a tree. He pressed his back against the trunk and strained to catch the conversation.

"Still playing hard to get, I see." Jakotsu's voice drifted up from the dell, light and airy as the breeze. "Now, if you were just a little sweeter..."

"Like hell I'd tell you." The man's voice was ragged with pain. One of the stragglers must have got unlucky.

Jakotsu giggled. "Oh, don't be too sure about that, gorgeous." There was a sickening crack.

The man gasped in anguish. "Bastard!"

"Aw, did that hurt?" Jakotsu cooed. "You know, it doesn't have to be this way."

"Fuck you."

Jakotsu gave another giggle. "Awfully forward, aren't we?"

The man hawked and spat. Jakotsu made a soft tut.

A slap echoed through the trees.

The man let out a choked laugh. "Go ahead, you sick bastard. You're just signing your own death warrant."

"Oh really? " Jakotsu's voice lowered to a seductive purr. "Mind telling me a little more, sweetie?"

"Go to h-"

There was another crack. A scream tore from the man's throat. A flock of crows took to the air.

Bankotsu swallowed a sigh. Typical Jakotsu. At this rate he'd bring the whole village down on them. He crept closer, keeping as low as he could manage.

There was a rustle of fabric as Jakotsu shifted his position. His voice was so low Bankotsu could barely catch it. "Now how about you carry on talking, hmm? It might just save you a few fingers."

The man gave another rasp. One that might have been a broken laugh.

"You really think you'll get away with this? After what you did to Onu-"

Jakotsu's fist smacked right into his face.

Bankotsu's breath caught in his throat. He gripped a root for support. Did he really just-

"Say that again." Jakotsu's voice was almost unrecognisable. "Say that again and-"

"And what?" The man let out a mirthless chuckle. "Doesn't matter if you kill me or not - you're guilty and you know it."

Jakotsu's only reply was another punch.

Another broken laugh. "Go on, finish me off. Just like you did with the rest of them."

"Shut up."

"Why?" The man gave an audible sneer. "You're the one who-"

"SHUT UP!"

The next blow was enough to make Bankotsu cringe. He peered as far forwards as he dared. His view was still blocked. His feet edged towards the dell while his brain screamed for him to stay put.

"Fuck..." The man's voice was little more than a groan.

"Now what did I tell you, handsome?" Jakotsu cooed, his voice as sweet as poison.

The man responded with a cough. For a moment, it seemed as if it would be his last. Bankotsu inched closer, his heart perched in his throat.

The man let out another groan. "You bastard..." he rasped. "Even the children. How-"

There wasn't a hint of amusement in Jakotsu's laugh. "Aren't you forgetting some-"

A twig snapped under Bankotsu's foot.

He didn't even have time to swear. His instincts screamed at him to duck. He hurled himself to the ground. Jakotsutou flew straight over his head. The blades tore through the sapling behind him, reducing it to kindling.

There was a sharp click as Jakotsu retrieved his sword.

Bankotsu raised his eyes. The rest of his body stayed rooted to the ground. The second he moved, Jakotsu would strike again. Better not risk it.

The man gave a choked cough. Another followed in its wake. Jakotsu paid him no mind.

"Just when things were getting interesting."

Bankotsu held his breath as he edged closer. He'd been lucky to dodge that first strike. He couldn't be so sure about the second.

"So, you want to play hide-and-seek?" Jakotsu's voice was dangerously low.

Still and silent was his best bet.

"Wait a minute..." Jakotsu paused. When he spoke again, his voice was much softer.

"Bankotsu?"

His heart froze in his chest. If Jakotsu had seen him there...

The silence stretched between them. Bankotsu's lungs were beginning to ache. He forced himself to stay put.

"Is that you?"

Silence.

Jakotsu let out a sigh. "Guess I'd better finish up. So long, sweetie."

There was a dull thud. The man gave a final groan. Jakotsu gave another sigh and sheathed his sword. His footsteps padded through the clearing and away down the path. Bankotsu didn't let out his breath until they faded into the forest.

Where did he even start?

The one thing he could be sure of was that staying here wasn't going to do him any good. Going back to Mito wasn't the best of ideas. The village was even worse. And as for Jakotsu... well. That settled it.

There was only one path left to follow.

* * *

 _Constructive criticism is very welcome!_

I update once a month.


	11. Makoto VI

**DISCLAIMER:** Inuyasha and all of the characters featured in this fanfic are the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Publishing, Sunrise, Viz and all other respective copyright owners. I do not lay claim to these characters in any way, shape or form.

 **Author's notes:**

This... this was a very difficult chapter to write. I'm afraid that's as much as I can say without giving away some major spoilers.

One quick reminder: there's a list of content warnings in the first chapter if you'd prefer to be warned.

* * *

 **Makoto VI**

Three against one just wasn't fair.

Iwakami had asked for a challenge. The three boys may as well have been leaves in a gale. Whereas Onuki-sama flowed like a river, Iwakami was a tempest. Any opponent fool enough to come at him was swept aside like driftwood. None of them could land a single blow.

The summer sun beat down with even less mercy than Iwakami. It was shaping up to be another airless day. The boys staggered on, encouraged by Uncle Masayoshi's support. Iwakami didn't give an inch. Makoto didn't envy them. They kept up their efforts until Iwakami caught one of them in the chest with his pommel. He went down like a sack of rice.

Masayoshi held up his hand. "That's enough for this morning. Well fought." He gave a nod to Iwakami.

The young samurai could barely contain their relief. Iwakami snorted in contempt. He didn't lower his bokken until all his opponents had yielded theirs.

Hideyori stepped forwards to help the fallen boy to his feet. Masayoshi's retainer was a regular in the practice yard. Although the sturdy veteran samurai favoured the naginata, he was no slouch with a sword. He eyed Iwakami with a touch of disapproval.

"Most impressive. Although a little restraint wouldn't go amiss."

Iwakami responded with a laugh. "You won't find much of that on the battlefield."

"One doesn't usually find children on the battlefield either."

"They'll be grown soon enough." Iwakami removed his helmet and shook out his hair. Drops of sweat glistened on his brow. "Leave the fretting to their mamas. No one ever died from bruises."

Hideyori didn't do much to hide his glare. Uncle Masayoshi cleared his throat.

"Makoto. Kei. Some water."

The boys scrambled to obey. Masayoshi was by far the most easy-going of the older samurai. As for Hideyori, he may have been a dry old stick but at least he was fair. He'd even offered to let Makoto help out with the young samurais' practice.

And where Makoto went, Kei was sure to follow. Not that he minded much. Kei's chattering was far more bearable than Nagisa's glares.

Kei snuck him a glance as he reached for a bamboo pitcher. "You'd have seen that one coming" he whispered, with a nod towards the winded samurai.

Makoto shook his head. "No way." He kept his voice as low as possible. The boys' ears were sharper than their swordsmanship.

He hushed Kei's reply and busied himself with his task. Kei wasn't too wrong though. He wouldn't best Iwakami anytime soon but any of these three would be lucky to make him break a sweat. Samurai they may be but none of them had ever faced a true battle. Even Masayoshi's youngest son was unblooded.

Still, a little humility wouldn't do either of them any harm, even if it did sting his pride. Helping out with practice sessions was one thing but even Onuki-sama wouldn't let him raise his sword against a samurai. At least, not in full view of the rest of the castle. No one raised an eyebrow at him tagging along for a few long rides and hunting trips.

His thoughts were scattered by Iwakami's footsteps. Kei shrank back against him as the samurai approached. He squeezed his arm. He couldn't blame Kei, really. It wasn't for him to question Onuki-sama's choice of friends but he'd never been able to warm up to Iwakami. Of course, he wouldn't lay so much as a finger on them while Onuki-sama was around but that was small comfort when he could _feel_ the looks he gave him.

He handed Iwakami a pitcher before he could open his mouth. The samurai smirked and took a swig. He and sloshed the remains over his head. He shook the droplets from his mane and turned his gaze back on them.

"Don't suppose you boys remembered to bring a towel?"

Makoto already had one slung over his arm. Iwakami grinned and took it from him. He tried not to cringe as the samurai's fingertips brushed his bare skin.

"Thanks, kid." He wiped his face and shook off a few more drops. "I'm guessing you don't know how to take this off." He tapped his breastplate.

Makoto shook his head. Perhaps a little too fast. Iwakami shot him another smirk.

"Thought as much. Guess I'll just ask one of this lot then."

He tossed the towel back to Makoto. Makoto flailed to catch it. Iwakami sauntered off across the yard, his smirk still on his lips.

Kei's eyes narrowed as he watched Iwakami's back. Makoto put a finger to his lips. One of the unfortunate samurai boys was soon pressed into helping Iwakami remove his armour. The other two stuck with Masayoshi and Hideyori.

The two older samurai began whispering as soon as Iwakami was out of earshot. Makoto hid a smile. For all their bickering they were as inseparable as he and Kei. The young samurai kept a polite silence. Makoto strained to catch the conversation.

"-won't learn anything while he's hammering at them like a blacksmith." Hideyori grumbled.

"Now, now. I'm sure Yoshihiko will be here soon enough."

Hideyori heaved a sigh. "Yoshihiko only makes him-"

"Uncle!" Onuki-sama's voice came clear across the courtyard. He'd spent most of the morning in the Daimyou's palace but he'd come dressed for practice. He was armoured from head to foot, his paired swords at his side. Whatever he had planned, it had to be worth the wait.

Makoto's face brightened at the sight of him. Kei broke into a smile. Even the young samurai perked up a bit. Hideyori was rather less impressed.

Masayoshi bowed his head. "Nephew." He raised an eyebrow at his garb. "I see you're ready for practice."

Onuki-sama returned the bow. "My apologies to the three of you. My father had urgent business to attend to."

"Even so, it 's good to see you. I thought it best for the boys to take a short break." Masayoshi inclined his head towards Iwakami.

Onuki-sama gave a chuckle. "Looks like you've been working them hard. I hope they haven't been too much trouble."

"No trouble at all, Nephew," Masayoshi replied. His face remained sincere.

Hideyori gave a small cough and a pointed glance in Iwakami's direction. Makoto caught Masayoshi rolling his eyes.

If Onuki-sama noticed, he didn't show it.

Iwakami certainly did. Not that it bothered him much. He turned his smirk on Onuki-sama. "Oh, I wouldn't say you're too late for another round."

"Is that so?" There was more than a glint of interest in Onuki-sama's eyes. He turned to Masayoshi. "Uncle?"

Masayoshi sized up the two men with a frown. He flicked his gaze towards Hideyori and caught his eye. His retainer let out another sigh. Masayoshi waited a few moments before giving them a cautious nod.

"No injuries this time."

Onuki-sama returned the nod. "Of course, Uncle." The light in his eyes grew brighter.

He strode into the yard and selected a bokken from the rack. He tested the wooden sword's weight and gave a few practice swings. Satisfied, he waited for the young samurai to relace Iwakami's armour.

Iwakami was soon ready. He sauntered into the yard as casually as he'd wandered out of it. Makoto's heart began to patter as the two samurai sized each other up.

Onuki-sama bowed to his opponent. "I'll let you go first."

Iwakami favoured him with a grin. "Like you'd go easy on me." He raised his bokken. "Come on, you lot. Onuki-sama'll show you how it's done."

Onuki-sama brought up his sword in response. Makoto held his breath. No one had come close to beating Onuki-sama at practice. At least, not when he'd been watching. His teeth clenched as the two samurai prepared to spring.

A conch bellowed across the courtyard.

Onuki-sama spun towards the sound. Iwakami followed suit. The boys could only gape. Guards exchanged shouts across the battlements. Others scrambled for their weapons. People spilled from every doorway in bewilderment. More conches took up the call.

"What's going on?" Kei somehow made himself audible above the rising din.

Makoto kept staring at the battlements. He didn't have to see for himself. The darkness was already closing in. He hugged his arms to his chest as the flames crackled in his memory. The screams still rang in his ears.

"Smoke..."

* * *

He was called back to the kitchen before his tears could dry. Nagisa took one look at him and set him to washing rice. For once, he was grateful. Even Kei-chan's company was too much to bear right now.

He took up his task in the far corner of the room, his back turned to curious whispers and prying eyes. At least the twins would leave him alone. He tipped a little water into his basin and milled through the grains, trying to keep his thoughts on anything but the battle ahead of them. Uncle Masayoshi had been as soft-spoken as ever but he'd made it plain they wouldn't take any boys. Tall as he was, there was no way he'd pass for sixteen.

He sniffed back a sob and looked down at his handiwork. The rice was little more than mush. He cursed under his breath and tipped the water into another basin, attempting to salvage some of the contents. It wasn't worth the effort. He sighed and pushed the basin aside. Better start over.

"May I have a word, Nagisa?"

Makoto couldn't help glancing upwards at the sound of Onuki-sama's voice. His face fell as he caught sight of O-Shizu beside him. Her summer silks did little to hide the swell of her belly. It hadn't taken long for her to catch up with her husband.

He kept his gaze fixed on the wall, afraid his eyes would betray him at any moment. It was a small blessing that he was too far away to make out the conversation, although he did catch the word "bandits".

Finally, the lady took her leave, scurrying to keep up with Onuki-sama's long strides. The tension left Makoto's shoulders. He was about to drain the rice when a low cough came from behind him.

"The young master wishes to speak with you."

Makoto started and made a hurried bow towards Nagisa. She regarded him with her usual distaste.

"See you're back in time to serve dinner."

"Yes, O-Nagisa." He left before she could find another burden to add to his workload.

Onuki-sama was waiting for him on the porch. He already looked worn out. Speaking with his father tended to have that effect on him. He inclined his head as Makoto approached.

Makoto gave him a low bow, hiding his reddened eyes. "Onuki-sama."

"I trust you've heard the news."

"Yes, Onuki-sama." He kept his gaze at his feet.

"I'll be heading out to alert the farmers this afternoon." He paused, sizing up the moment. "I could do with some more messengers."

Makoto raised his head, his worries forgotten. "Onuki-sama?"

"You'd like to come?"

Makoto didn't need to answer.

"Be ready by midday. We'll need to return by sunset." He cast him a smile and turned on his heel.

Onuki-sama was excused from dinner. Makoto found him mounted and ready in the courtyard. Iwakami towered by his side. Both they and their retinue were dressed for battle. Onuki-sama had assured him he didn't need Jatou, although he'd taken his own swords just in case. Makoto was too grateful to care. They left the castle with the guards' well-wishes at their backs.

The party had little time for talk. They pressed on in near silence, unswerving in their purpose. Onuki-sama didn't say another word until they were at the crossroads. He reined up beside Iwakami and surveyed the horizon.

"I'll let you take it from here."

Iwakami flashed him a grin. "As you say, Onuki-sama." He wheeled his horse in the opposite direction. "See you at sunset."

He spurred the horse onwards. The retainers followed in his wake. Makoto stared after them, shielding his brow from the harsh sunlight. Only he and Onuki-sama remained.

The samurai gave a chuckle. "Looks like we've got the afternoon to ourselves, Mako-chan."

Makoto couldn't help but blush. Onuki-sama only called him that when they were alone.

"But what about-"

"There's no need. Sukemori can take care of the levies."

Makoto blinked. A flicker of hope fluttered in his chest. "Then where?"

A whisp of a smile tugged at Onuki-sama's lips. "You'll see."

* * *

It was more than he'd ever dared hope for.

They'd rode double through the forest, the sun at their backs. Everything was still in full bloom, sheltered from the sun's wrath. The forest teemed with life from roots to treetops yet they hadn't met so much as a woodcutter. Onuki-sama had passed their usual practice glade without a glance.

Makoto gave him a questioning look as they neared the path back to the castle. Onuki-sama squeezed his shoulder and rode on. When the path forked, they went left instead of right. Another look, another squeeze.

Finally, they reached a sheltered spot at the base of the mountain. Onuki-sama slid from the saddle and helped Makoto down. He hobbled the horse and left him to graze.

Makoto could only stand open-mouthed.

They were only at the far side of the castle yet they could have been in another world. Surely no human had touched those moss-strewn rocks in centuries. No one could ever have taken an axe to the twining branches above them. No feet had trod upon those trailing ferns. No hand had dipped into that sparkling pool.

For no one had ever told him about the waterfall.

The mountain streams trickled down into a cascade of pure crystal. A faint rainbow glistened in its spray. It must have been three hundred feet high. All castles held secrets but for this to be below them the entire time...

"I hope this was worth the wait."

"It's..." Makoto's words had tumbled right out of his mouth.

"I'll take that as a yes." He reached into his saddlebag with a smile. "That reminds me..."

He withdrew a long, thin package and tossed it to Makoto. Makoto caught it without a second thought. He stared down at the unmistakable object.

His bokken.

"We might just have time for one more round." Onuki-sama's smile was brighter than the sun.

He could have kissed him.

Instead he went straight for his head.

Onuki-sama met him with a parry. Makoto slipped aside and aimed a swing at his ribs. Another parry. Another strike. They danced around the pool exchanging blows and laughter.

Makoto pushed forwards, redoubling his efforts. Onuki-sama parried everything he could throw at him. He kept up his assault, uncaring of his aching arms and straining lungs. It was more than worth the pain. This could be the last afternoon they'd share together. All he could do was make it last as long possible.

Onuki-sama stepped aside from another blow. The pool was at his back. Just a little further. Makoto dodged, feinted, readied a riposte. For the briefest of seconds, he was _almost_ in reach.

Almost.

Makoto swung wide and tripped forwards. The pool loomed up to greet him. Onuki-sama caught him with one hand. For a breathless moment he was clasped in Onuki-sama's arms.

He flushed as he pulled away.

Onuki-sama released his grip. His eyes were strangely calm.

"I think you could do with a break."

Makoto could only blush in response. He leaned against a rock, snatching back his breath. Onuki-sama retrieved a canteen from the saddlebag. He dipped it in the pool and took a draught. Makoto managed a small sip. Onuki-sama left him the canteen while he searched for another. This time, he threw the water straight over his head.

Makoto couldn't help but stare as Onuki-sama stripped off his armour. His sweat-drenched kosode clung to his skin. The droplets still glistened in his hair. His eyes grew wider still when Onuki-sama peeled his kosode down to his waist.

The samurai glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "Mako-chan?"

Makoto swallowed and looked away. "Um..."

"Is something wrong?" His voice was soft with concern.

"N-no, it's just..." It was all he could do to keep his voice steady. "Tomorrow?"

"Yes?" He put down the canteen and turned to face him. "Is there..."

Makoto gathered his breath and let the words spill out.

"Take me with you."

A shadow crossed Onuki-sama's face. For a few moments, he was completely silent. Finally, he sighed and looked down at Makoto. He laid a hand on his shoulder.

"How old are you, Mako-chan?"

His tone sent a chill down Makoto's spine. "Th-thirteen."

"Thirteen..." His eyes were unreadable. "I was fifteen when I fought my first battle."

"Please... it's just two years."

"It was almost my last." He fixed him with a solemn stare. "War isn't a game, Mako-chan."

Makoto swallowed. "I-I know. Onuki-sama. I saw - th-the village." He gathered his courage and returned the stare. "They're going to pay."

"You saw more than enough." His gaze was heavy with concern. "I promised your mother-"

"Please, Onuki-sama..." He choked back a sob. "I- I have to. For Mama. And Grandpa. I can help, I can fight-"

"Mako-chan..." Onuki-sama's eyes had never been more serious. "Is this really what you-"

"Please! I'll do anything! As long as I'm with y-"

His voice came short. His jaw dropped in horror. He tried to clap a hand over his mouth. Onuki-sama caught his wrist. Before Makoto could say another word, his hand was clasped in his.

"Is that what you want, Mako-chan?" His eyes held nothing but gentleness. His grip was firm as steel.

Makoto's words froze in his throat. All he could give him was one tearful nod.

That was all it took. One moment they were hand-in-hand, the next he was pinned against the rocks. His eyes shot wide as Onuki-sama crushed his lips against his. He attempted a yelp, only to be met with his tongue. His gasp was lost in the depths of his throat.

He was breathless by the time they broke apart. Onuki-sama had his arms pinned above his head with one hand. The other still cupped his chin. A flush spread through his body as the samurai traced a finger across his lips. He was the first to look away.

"Makoto?"

"We can't..." His voice was tiny beneath the water's roar. So fragile it would break at any moment. Tears threatened to overwhelm him once again.

Onuki-sama's gaze softened. His grip stayed firm. He turned Makoto's face towards him.

"Are you scared?"

"A- a little," he admitted. His stomach had turned to knots.

"I was scared too. The first time I was with another man." He brushed a tear from Makoto's face. "You know I'd never hurt you."

"But... your wife..."

"A wife has her place." He wiped away another tear. "And you have yours." He pressed a kiss against his cheek.

Makoto swallowed. His throat was dry as dust. "But..."

"O-Shizu can hardly follow me to war. Not now she's expecting. Besides," he continued, "there's no crime in loving another man. Especially not one as beautiful as you." He kissed his other cheek.

Makoto's breath caught in his throat. This was more than he could ever have hoped for. So why couldn't he stop shaking? "O-Onuki-sama," he stammered.

"Why deny it? You don't see my uncle taking another wife now, do you?" He reached up and released Makoto's ponytail from its tie. His hair was already damp with spray and sweat. He weaved his fingers through the strands, stroking his scalp.

"Another year or two and you'll be even lovelier than your mother."

Makoto's pulse quickened with every caress. The water's thunder shuddered through his bones. He shivered as Onuki-sama leaned closer.

"Please-"

He gasped as the samurai laid a kiss on his neck.

Onuki-sama gave a low chuckle. "You know, I don't think I could stop you from going to war if I tried." He slid his hand under Makoto's kosode and slipped it from his shoulder. "You weren't made for washing rice."

Every muscle in his body had turned to stone. His stomach clenched as Onuki-sama trailed a finger down his chest. Cool droplets trickled down his spine.

"I want you by my side, Mako-chan."

Wasn't this all he'd ever wanted? He couldn't say. If this was what it took...

"I-" He swallowed his doubts and forced out a nod. "I-If I'm with you then..."

Onuki-sama relaxed into a smile. So gentle. Yet it did nothing to reassure him.

"There's nothing to be afraid of."

Makoto shuddered as his hand crept inside his hakama. He bit back a whimper. "There's-"

He silenced him with another kiss.

* * *

 _Constructive criticism is very welcome!_

I update once a month.


	12. Bankotsu VI

**DISCLAIMER:** Inuyasha and all of the characters featured in this fanfic are the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Publishing, Sunrise, Viz and all other respective copyright owners. I do not lay claim to these characters in any way, shape or form.

 **Glossary**

 _Jingasa_ \- a lightweight helmet that resembles an upturned wok. Usually worn by soldiers when encamped or travelling.

* * *

 **Bankotsu VI**

He'd lost him.

He'd turned his back on Jakotsu as soon as he was out of sight. The path was a gentle one without many slopes or turns. The few woodcutters and travellers he glimpsed were easy enough to avoid. He hadn't caught so much as a sniff of a youkai or any bandits.

He still couldn't relax for a second.

 _He didn't even tell me his name_. The more he'd asked, the less he'd told him. The past was the only subject that could leave Jakotsu speechless. And no wonder. His anger, his shock, his silences... they all made far more sense than he'd like.

He was no stranger to having blood on his hands. He'd killed his first man at eight, his second not long after. Yet he'd never turned his blade on a friend. Blood was one thing. Betrayal...

The trickle of a stream brought him back to the present. His feet ached, his throat parched and his canteen was running dangerously low. He swallowed the last few drops and checked his bearings. Judging by the sun's westward path, it was already the middle of the afternoon.

He followed the water's trill around another bend. He was met with a babbling brook, a large clearing and what might have once passed for a temple.

A temple with two bandits on guard duty.

He ducked behind a nearby tree. The guards were too bored - or drunk - to notice. He took stock of the temple or what was left of it. Ruin would be a compliment. Only the main building still had a roof, if you could call it that. The others made the village's watchtower look sturdy. Still, there was no telling how many other bandits it could hide. Better take the long way round.

He inched along the edge of the clearing, keeping as low as his bisento would allow. The bandits' voices rose in laughter as he approached. Wood smoke drifted up from the ruined courtyard, accompanied by a hint of fresh-roasted fish. His stomach couldn't help but gurgle. He'd had neither the time nor the appetite for food since the village. He was more than happy to kill for a quick meal.

He drew closer and pressed his back against the temple's rear wall. He was still too far away for a good look but the wall had more than enough cracks .

He took a glance through one of them. That gave him a clear view through the open doorway. He made out four men, maybe five, clustered around a campfire. Taking them on alone could be a risk. Leaving them could be an even bigger one.

Besides, the food might not be the only thing worth taking.

At least he had another escape route handy. A dirt path wound away to his left, onward into depths of the forest. He'd get there before they could, if he had to. He wasn't one to run from a fight but this wasn't a good day for taking chances. He pressed his face against the crack and strained to catch the conversation.

"-not worth the men if you ask me," a one-eyed bandit muttered.

"Aye, there's richer pickings nearby," said another.

A third snorted. "Rich? That dungheap?"

"Enough." The leader put up his hand.

He had to be the leader to manage keeping that lot quiet. He was no more striking than the rest of his scruffy bunch. His arms and armour were just as plain as his face. Only by the wolf pelt clasped around his shoulders set him apart from the others.

Now there was an unfortunate piece of luck. The wolf in his den. He waited for Akayoru to break the silence.

"Did you find Takashi?" Akayoru's voice held little expectation.

The one-eyed bandit made a noise that was half sigh half groan. "Deader than dirt."

Akayoru didn't flinch a muscle. "Had it coming if you ask me." He reached for a jug of sake and refilled his bowl. He held it out to his companion.

One-eye accepted the jug and emptied the dregs. He heaved a contented sigh. "Thanks, boss." He wiped his mouth and tossed the jug aside. "Never did find his head though."

"Ah, don't fret yourself. Not like he used it much." Akayoru shook his head and took another draught of sake.

Laughter rang through the clearing. Another bandit leaned across to whisper something into Akayoru's ear. The laughter doubled.

Bankotsu gritted his teeth. They'd meet the same fate soon enough. He just needed to get a little closer. He inched towards the corner of the building, towards the largest of the gaps. He should be able to slip inside without too much trouble.

And so he did. None of the bandits gave him so much as a glance. He allowed himself a tiny sigh of relief.

An arm slipped round his neck.

His yell was stopped by a beefy hand. The man's arm tightened into a chokehold. Bankotsu gasped as his breath was cut off. He dropped his bisento and made a grab for his attacker's forearm.

"Try anything and you'll-"

He dropped into a crouch and threw him over his shoulder. The man slammed to the floor. He let loose a yell of his own as Bankotsu snapped his elbow across his knee.

That got their attention.

The bandits' gazes snapped towards the temple as one. Two of them scrambled for their weapons. Akayoru threw his bowl aside and reached for his sword. The others sat gawping, their eyes as wide as their mouths.

"Did I just-"

"We all did." Akayoru's tone brooked no argument. "In there. Now."

Bankotsu grabbed his bisento and drove it into the wounded man's chest. He choked out another scream. He kicked the dying man aside. He may be clear of the doorway but they'd come running soon enough. Better to meet them there.

He caught the first one right in the gut. Another bandit was on him in a flash. He blocked his sword with his haft and forced him back. Hewas skewered on one of his charging comrades' spears.

The bandit dropped his spear in shock. The dead man thudded to the ground. The others stopped in their tracks. Bankotsu planted himself in the doorway and fixed them with a challenging stare. The bandits eyes' widened in response. One of them looked to his leader.

Akayoru met his challenge with his spear.

Bankotsu had no choice but to dart aside. The spear shot through the doorway and buried itself in the wall. Another crack for its collection.

The bandits cheered and surged forwards. He'd be dead meat if he turned back. He met the first two head on. He cut them down before they could release their spears.

There was a scream as another bandit crashed to the ground. Bankotsu didn't catch who or what hit him. He pressed on, lopping the head from another bandit's spear. The bandit's head soon joined it in the dirt.

Akayoru yelled a command. Three more bandits shot out from the remains of a storehouse. He should've known. If more of them were hiding-

A shout came from his left. He caught a glimpse of two bandits struck down by... a samurai? A swordsman at any rate. He forced his attention back to his opponents. No time to watch.

There was a rush of air behind him. He spun to parry a sword meant for his head. One-eye strained against him, cursing. He bulled him back into the campfire. He ended the bandit's screams in a single slash. That left-

He turned to face Akayoru's upraised katana. The bandit gave him the briefest hint of a smile.

Right before his arm was torn off in an arc of blood.

Akayoru's scream ripped through the clearing. His sword fell from his grasp and clattered to the ground. His body crashed down to join it. Bankotsu barely had time to dodge.

No one else rushed to challenge him. Akayoru thrashed and writhed as he clutched his bleeding stump. The remaining bandits lay dead or dying in their own blood. Bankotsu let out his breath and turned to thank his rescuer.

The samurai greeted him with an all-too-familiar grin.

Bankotsu recoiled like a whip. He flipped backwards and landed a couple of feet from the footpath. He caught his balance and levelled his bisento at the samurai.

He almost dropped it when Iwakami lowered his sword.

Iwakami's grin faded into a smirk. He plunged his katana into Akayoru's neck without taking his eyes from Bankotsu. The bandit sputtered and fell silent. He knelt down and wiped his blade on the dead man's clothes. He watched Bankotsu from the corner of his eye, daring him to come closer.

Bankotsu fixed him with a glare.

"Relax, kid. I've already got what I came for." Iwakami's amusement was as plain as the summer day. He carried on wiping his sword.

"Oh yeah?" Bankotsu's voice was much steadier than his heartbeat. He scanned the clearing for any signs of movement. Nothing, except for him and this bastard. At least the footpath was at his back. Still...

Iwakami gave a chuckle. "Well, a little thanks wouldn't hurt." He sheathed his sword and rose to his feet.

Bankotsu tensed as he approached the campfire. Iwakami tsked and shook his head.

"Honestly, you'd think I was the one trying to run you through back there." He inspected the fish and took a skewer, followed by a bite. "Good job the Daimyou thought you could do with a little backup."

Bankotsu's glare sharpened. "I don't need your help, old man."

Iwakami's smirk was growing by the second. "You sure about that?" He took a step towards him and held out the skewer. Bankotsu made no move to take it.

"Hell, we're on the same side, aren't we?"

Bankotsu raised his bisento. "I said I don't need you."

Iwakami heaved a sigh. "Sheesh, you're nearly as jumpy as Mako-chan." He tossed the skewer over his shoulder. "Where'd he run off to, anyway? Not like him to miss out on a good bloodbath."

Bankotsu kept his face as steady as he could. "Beats me. I haven't seen him since yesterday."

"Oh, haven't you now?" Iwakami's tone dripped sarcasm. "I wonder why?" The smirk returned to his face.

"Just give it a rest. Jakotsu's long gone." His voice managed not to betray him.

Iwakami gave a low chuckle. "Not much of a liar, are you?" He took another step forwards. Bankotsu's shoulders stiffened as he drew closer.

Iwakami pursed his lips in mock sympathy. He made a soft tut. "Aw, what's the matter, sweetie? He try something you don't like?"

Bankotsu's teeth clenched. "Jakotsu isn't like-"

"Like what? Me?" Iwakami shook his head. His eyes were alight with amusement. "Believe me, I'm not the one you want to be afraid of, kid."

Bankotsu's jaw grew tighter. "Like hell I'd-"

"But of course you'd believe Mako-chan." Iwakami's laughter held nothing but scorn. He paused to catch his breath. "Oh man. You really are cute."

Bankotsu swallowed his annoyance. "I don't have time for this shit."

Iwakami stifled his laughter. "You sure about that, kid? There's plenty you don't know about 'Jakotsu'."

Bankotsu's eyes narrowed. "And what do you know, old man?"

"Oh? Well, let's see..." Iwakami let the pause hang for a moment. "His name?"

There was no hiding his surprise. Iwakami gave him another grin.

"You might want to head someplace quieter for your little chats in future."

The samurai sidled closer. Bankotsu's knuckles grew white. He backed away.

Iwakami's grin widened. "Ah, don't shit yourself kid. You're no good to me dead." A glint rose in his eyes as he approached him. "Now how about you start talking, hmm? Save yourself a little trouble."

This had gone far enough. He may not know where he stood with Jakotsu but he wasn't about to give Iwakami any more ground. He hardened his stare and readied himself to spring.

"How about you shut the f-"

Iwakami's hand shot to his scabbard.

Bankotsu leapt back to avoid his strike. He stumbled over a stray root. There was a muted click as a net sprang around him.

 _Shit._

He went straight for his knife. The ropes gave like thread. The bisento remained caught. He slashed himself free and landed ready to strike.

Only for three men to rush from the undergrowth to surround him.

Iwakami's grin was more infuriating than ever. "Not bad, kid."

Bankotsu breathed out a curse. No doubt they'd been waiting for the bandits to drink themselves even stupider but they weren't about to pass him up either. Kill the Daimyou's men and he was sure to wind up with a price on his head. This could get tricky.

The men remained silent, waiting. Their faces were half-hidden by scarves and jingasa. Each levelled a stout spear at him.

Iwakami merely chuckled. He waved his men forwards.

The spearmen charged. Bankotsu sheathed his blade and went for the man on his right.

His surprise was all the advantage he needed. He dodged past his thrust and grabbed the spear's haft with both hands. He twisted it out of his grip and smacked him across the face with its butt. The spearman slammed to the ground.

He spun to face the others. He caught one clean in the chest with his haft. The man crashed straight into the nearest tree.

The other stumbled aside. He caught his footing and levelled his spear at Bankotsu, his eyes alert for an opening. Bankotsu wasn't about to give him one. He kept his gaze trained on the man's face as he weighed up his options.

Iwakami continued to watch, his smirk never straying from his face. He'd make his move once the spearman was down. Taking on the small fry without bloodshed was simple enough but this guy...

The spearman saw his chance. He threw himself into a headlong thrust.

Bankotsu slipped aside. The spearman spun to face him. His second thrust was met with a parry. He was about to counterattack when the man gave a muffled gasp.

He shoved the spearman aside. An arrow whistled past his shoulder. The spearman wasn't so lucky. He dropped his weapon and clutched his wounded arm.

Bankotsu took his chance. He thwacked his haft into the man's knee. He shot behind him to avoid another arrow. He dropped the spear and drew his knife. He twisted the man's good arm behind his back. His knife went straight to his throat.

Iwakami raised an eyebrow. He made no move to attack. Bankotsu still didn't take his eyes from him. He steadied himself as the undergrowth rustled to his left.

"Show yourself. Or he dies."

Another man stepped from the shadows, a fully drawn longbow in his hands. His scarf did little to hide the tension in his jaw. He kept his sights fixed on Bankotsu.

Bankotsu pressed his knife into the spearman's neck. A strangled noise escaped his throat.

The archer paused. His bow remained taut. Bankotsu caught his breath as recognition dawned in his eyes.

"Damn it, Daisuke!" Hiroshi's voice was thick with frustration. "Didn't I tell you to-"

"Daisuke?"

The spearman made a sound that might have been a moan. "Please..."

Bankotsu swallowed a curse. No wonder those shinobi had snuck up on them so easily. Daisuke had better count himself lucky. That arrow was the only thing standing between him and a slit throat. He tightened his grip as Hiroshi fixed him with a look of pure contempt.

"I knew you two were nothing but trouble." Hiroshi's glare was a sharp as his arrows. "Leave him, boy. Bluffing won't save you."

Bankotsu returned the glare. "I'm no good to him dead."

Iwakami let out a sigh. "Well, you've got me there." His face didn't show the slightest sign of strain. If anything, he was more amused than ever. "Save your arm, Hiroshi. He's not going anywhere."

Hiroshi didn't draw back an inch. His glare stayed fixed on Bankotsu. "Iwakami-sama..."

Daisuke gave another moan. His body was beginning to shake. "Please, I-I didn't want to -"

Pity Daisuke didn't know when to shut up. Bankotsu twisted his arm a little tighter.

"Wait, you - you don't understand!" Daisuke bit back a yelp as the blade nipped his flesh. Even that couldn't keep him from trembling. "My wife - m-my daughter... please..."

Iwakami gave another sigh. "Didn't I tell you, kid? That bastard isn't worth fighting over." His eyes weren't laughing now. "Drop the knife while you still can."

Bankotsu pressed his knife deeper. A drop of blood trickled down Daisuke's neck. "One more step and he dies."

Daisuke let out a whimper. "Please..."

"Is that so?" Iwakami's tone was much too calm for his liking. "Well, I can't have you slitting the peasants open, can I?"

Hiroshi's eyes grew wary. He cast a glance at Iwakami. The samurai looked almost bored. Bankotsu steadied his grip as Hiroshi's hand wavered.

Daisuke's voice deserted him. His wits followed suit. Bankotsu suppressed a wince as the last of Daisuke's feeble courage ran down his legs.

Iwakami gave a tsk. "Honestly. If you want a job doing..." He pressed his palm to his forehead.

His other hand went to his sword.

* * *

 _Constructive criticism is very welcome!_

I update once a month.


	13. Makoto VII

**DISCLAIMER:** Inuyasha and all of the characters featured in this fanfic are the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Publishing, Sunrise, Viz and all other respective copyright owners. I do not lay claim to these characters in any way, shape or form.

 **Author's notes:**

Hoo boy. This one gets pretty intense.

Again, there's a list of content warnings in the first chapter if you'd prefer to be warned.

 **Glossary**

 _Oyakata-sama_ \- a respectful way to address the head of one's samurai clan. Can be roughly translated as "honourable lord of the house"

 _-dono_ \- an honorific used to refer to one's social superiors. Can also be used as a polite form of address between equals. Roughly equivalent to "milord" or the French "monseigneur".

* * *

 **Makoto VII**

The campaign proved easier than any of the Onuki had dared hope. The bandits were swift and savage but they lacked the soldiers' discipline. Their numbers soon ran short. The few survivors holed themselves up in the mountains like the cowards they were. It didn't take long for the Daimyou's shinobi to slip past their ramshackle defences. Once the gate was up the soldiers poured in like a flood.

The bandits were just as quick to flee their hill fort. Makoto's unit had plenty to keep them busy. The deserters were more than desperate enough to risk running into their line of fire. Soon only the stragglers remained. Easy pickings. Fear was the only thing that kept them running. He took down two men in a single strike. Four more fell to his comrades' arrows.

The remaining three blanched and turned tail. He cut off their escape at the knees. Let them run. Jatou never lost its prey.

"Nice one!" A soldier cast him a grin. His own blade was buried in a straggler's back.

Makoto couldn't help but grin back. The soldiers had soon stopped questioning his place in battle. He may be too young to fight on the front lines but there were no shortage of ways to make himself useful. Even the older samurai had warmed up to him in the end.

Only Onuki-sama could have made this day better. The only time he left his side was during battle. He'd carried his messages, served his meals, washed his clothes, cleaned his armour and pitched his tent. He had barely a moment's rest from dawn till dusk. Once darkness fell, Onuki-sama often kept him awake for far longer.

He hadn't complained once.

A band of samurai cantered towards them. All were battle-worn and weary but none bore any serious wounds. The foremost greeted him with a smile.

"Ah, Makoto-kun!"

Uncle Masayoshi beamed down at him from astride his stallion. Even he cut an impressive sight in full armour. Hideyori was mounted by his side, his naginata drenched in blood. Onuki-sama was nowhere to be seen.

Makoto gave them a hurried bow. The soldiers followed suit.

"Good work, men. The main gate's been secured. We should-" His smile creased into a frown as he caught sight of Makoto's anxious face. "Is something wrong, Makoto-kun?"

Makoto started. "Oh, n-nothing. I was just looking for Onuki-sa-"

"Make way! Make way for the Daimyou!"

A cry came from the main gate. Hoofbeats thundered towards them. The group of samurai parted to let the newcomers pass. Makoto scurried aside. He caught one look at the Daimyou's face before prostrating himself in the dirt.

The Daimyou and his party drew to a halt beside Masayoshi. He greeted his brother with a small nod. Makoto kept his face low and one eye on their conversation.

"Masayoshi. How goes the battle?"

Masayoshi bowed as deep as he was able. "It goes well, Oyakata-sama. We should have the fort secured before nightfall."

"And Yoshihiko?"

Masayoshi cleared his throat. He kept his eyes downcast. "I believe he's still down in the village. He thought it best to stay behind with the men."

He was wise enough to leave the rest unsaid. Onuki-sama had been removed from the vanguard after an arrow nearly took him in the eye. The Daimyou had sent him to head up the rear. He hadn't said a word to his father since. The tension hung in the air like a thundercloud waiting to burst.

"I see." The Daimyou's eyes were as unreadable as ever. He made another nod to Masayoshi. "See he's back by sunset."

Masayoshi bowed his head. "Of course, Oyakata-sama."

The Daimyou wheeled his horse round and set off for the hill fort. His retainers followed in his wake. Masayoshi and his men stayed put.

Makoto watched the Daimyou's back until he was out of sight. Surely Onuki-sama wouldn't take that long? He glanced up at Masayoshi. His eyes were still fixed on the fort.

Hideyori cleared his throat and nudged Masayoshi's arm. Masayoshi gave Makoto an apologetic look.

"Ah, sorry, Makoto-kun. You were saying?"

"Oh." He flushed and hurried to his feet. "It's nothing. Onuki-sama will be back soon." He looked away and scratched the back of his neck.

The two samurai exchanged a glance.

"I see." Masayoshi's eyes were strange, almost sad. "I fear he may be a while yet. There's no harm in you staying here for now. You're welcome to eat with us."

Hideyori nodded. "There's plenty to go round. You'd be surprised what those scum had stashed away."

Makoto _was_ hungry. Yet he'd never spent the evening away from Onuki-sama. The camp was a rowdy place at the best of times and it was only likely to get rowdier. Besides, Masayoshi's campfire was never short of visitors, most of them young men. Small wonder he saw no need for another wife.

No, Onuki-sama would be back soon. He'd need a fresh fire and a bath and a meal of his own. He'd also need a room for the night. The Daimyou's son could hardly be expected to stay in his tent now they'd taken the fort. He'd better find him before things got too wild.

"Th... thank you, Onuki-dono. But I'm sure he'll be back soon. The guards at the gate must have seen him."

"I-I see." Another question hovered on the tip of Masayoshi's tongue. He swallowed it back. "We'll be here if you change your mind."

"Thank you, Onuki-dono." Makoto's voice was a little too bright. He bowed and left before doubt could set in.

* * *

The village may as well have been a graveyard. No one was there to greet him except crows and corpses. The flames of conquest had dwindled to embers and ashes. The reek of death hung heavy in the air. Even the looters were long gone. He suppressed a shiver as the wind whistled through a deserted street.

He pressed on, Jatou in his hand. It wasn't like Onuki-sama to keep him waiting this long. Makoto was usually the first to greet him when he returned to camp. Onuki-sama would always gift him a smile.

Sometimes he brought other gifts: a mirror, a hairpin, even a new kosode. That was by far his favourite, crimson and ivory silk embellished with golden butterflies. When Onuki-sama pressed the mirror into his hands it could have been Mama's face staring back at him. All he could do was hug him in response. The memory of his smile spurred him further.

He rounded a corner and chanced upon a narrow alleyway. A shout came from the darkness. A ragged figure shot towards him. Makoto raised his sword. The figure gasped, stumbled and fell. He tumbled to a halt at his feet. Makoto stared down at him, ready to strike. He was met with a pair of wide brown eyes.

The same brown as Kei's.

The shock stayed his hand. He stood motionless, Jatou poised above his head. The boy stayed rooted to the spot. Only his eyes moved, flitting from one dead end to another. Now that Makoto got a good look at him, he couldn't be more than ten. No older than Kei. He even had his freckles.

A shadow drifted across his path. "Looking for something, Mako-chan?"

Makoto started. The boy flinched and shuddered. Iwakami stood in the alleyway behind him, one hand propped against the wall. His head was bare but he was still clad in armour from throat to foot. Fire glinted in his eyes. The boy shrank back as he moved into the light.

"Not much of a talker, are you?" Iwakami favoured him with a slow smile. "How about a hello?"

"Iwakami-sama." Makoto gave him a stiff bow. He'd shared their campfire every night yet he still couldn't let his guard down around him. "I was just-"

"Onuki-sama? Haven't seen him."

Surprise flashed across Makoto's face. Iwakami let out a chuckle.

"What? It wasn't hard to guess." His face settled into a smirk. "Well, you can still make yourself useful." His gaze shifted to the boy cowering between them.

The boy gave another shudder. Iwakami's smirk grew wider.

"Mind he doesn't run too far, Mako-chan."

"Iwakami-sama?"

Makoto received no reply. Iwakami drew his katana and advanced on the boy. The glint in his eyes brightened as he drew nearer. Makoto's free hand clenched. Flames stirred in his memory.

The boy started and scrabbled backwards. He bumped into Makoto's leg and flinched away.

That only made Iwakami laugh. "Save your breath, kid. You're going to need it." He made a grab for the boy's haori.

The boy yelped and darted behind Makoto. Before he could protest, the boy was clinging to his leg like a limpet. He stared down at him, unmoving. The boy stared back. His gaze stayed steady despite his trembling body.

Iwakami shook his head. "Honestly. You don't want to end up like your sister, do you?" He levelled his sword at Makoto. "Step aside, Mako-chan"

Makoto didn't move. The boy's stare had pinned him to the spot. All he could do was watch those big brown eyes fill with tears.

Just like Kei's.

"Leave him."

Iwakami paused. He creased his brows. "You say something?"

Makoto swallowed. The boy clung closer. He fought back his rising panic and hardened his voice.

"I said, leave him alone." He put his left hand on the boy's shoulder and gave him a small squeeze. The boy's eyes glimmered with hope.

Iwakami's frown turned into another smirk. "Oh? You got your eye on this one?"

Makoto shot him a glare. "He's just a kid. Back off." His right hand reached for Jatou.

A dangerous smile rose to Iwakami's lips. "Big words for a little boy. Best take them back while you still can."

He made another grab for the boy. Makoto gasped and pulled him away. He stumbled back and dropped to one knee. He clutched the boy to his chest as the samurai glared down at them. Iwakami snorted and brought his hilt down on his head.

Makoto blocked it by a hair. That left him open. One kick to the ribs had him flat on his side. By the time he uncurled the boy was dangling from Iwakami's grasp.

The boy screamed and stretched out a hand. He came up short. He was left clutching empty air as Iwakami yanked him backwards.

"Wait!"

Makoto scrambled to his feet and rushed forwards. He grabbed Iwakami by the arm. The boy gave a startled cry. Makoto clung on with both hands, straining to loosen the samurai's grip.

Iwakami tsked as though he'd been bitten by a mosquito. Then he swatted him away like one.

Makoto thudded straight into the wall. Iwakami sheathed his katana and grabbed him by the throat. The boy gave another scream as Iwakami hauled him off his feet.

Makoto choked out a gasp. His hands clawed at Iwakami's arm, scrabbling uselessly against his armour. His legs lashed out, his kicks growing feebler by the second. One caught the samurai in the thigh. He may as well have kicked the wall. Iwakami tightened his grip, forcing his eyes shut.

"You little bitch..." Iwakami's voice was pure venom. "Try that again and I'll-"

"Enough, Sukemori."

Iwakami froze. His grip eased just enough for Makoto to squeeze an eye open. Relief flooded his face as he made out a hazy figure striding towards them.

"Onuki-sama..." he croaked.

Onuki-sama didn't have to say a word. One look was all it took for Iwakami to release him. He dropped straight to the ground. He slumped against the wall, sucking in air like a dying carp.

Iwakami didn't even look at him. His eyes were fixed on Onuki-sama. There was more than a hint of tension in his jaw and shoulders. He drew back as Onuki-sama approached, the boy still in his grasp.

Makoto lifted his head, his vision swimming back into focus. Onuki-sama stood over him, his brows tight with concern. He knelt down and placed a hand on Makoto's shoulder.

"Are you hurt, Mako-chan?"

Makoto shook his head. "I-I'm okay. I think." He tried to stand, only for his knees to buckle underneath him. He grabbed Onuki-sama's arm for support.

"Don't force yourself. Just take deep breaths." Onuki-sama eased him down and drew his other arm around him. A light blush bloomed on Makoto's cheeks as he held him to his chest.

Onuki-sama turned his gaze back to Iwakami. The ice in his eyes was enough to make even him take a step back.

"I'd keep your hands to yourself in future, if I were you." His voice was soft as thunder.

Iwakami paused for a few moments before giving him a curt nod. "So long as he keeps his hands off my stuff." The boy whimpered as he clutched him closer.

"Very well." The tension left Onuki-sama's face. He bowed his head. "My apologies, Sukemori. Makoto can be a little... headstrong at times." He gave him a squeeze.

Iwakami snorted. "Well, that's one way of putting it."

Onuki-sama silenced him with another glare.

"See you're back by sundown. I have matters to attend to at camp." He rose and helped Makoto to his feet.

Makoto frowned. He glanced back at Iwakami. The boy was still squirming in his grasp, tears running down his cheeks. Anxiety rose in his throat. He tugged at Onuki-sama's sleeve and caught his eye. Surely he would-

"You too, Makoto."

Makoto's jaw dropped. He stood motionless, his feet as frozen as his mouth.

"O-Onuki-sama?"

"Leave him. We're finished here." He spoke with an eerie calm.

Makoto stayed still. He stared at Onuki-sama, his mouth agape. "But... he..."

"Makoto..." Onuki-sama paused and gazed down at him. He studied him for a few moments then placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I guess this place brings back some bad memories."

Makoto flushed and looked away. He gave him a small nod.

Onuki-sama's gaze softened. "I see." He cupped Makoto's cheek and tilted his face towards him. His fingers lingered in a caress. "You know I won't let anyone hurt you."

Makoto swallowed. Onuki-sama had never shown him anything but warmth. Yet a touch of frost still lingered in his eyes. He found his voice again.

"But he..."

Onuki-sama gave a sigh and slid his hand under Makoto's chin. He turned his head to face the boy. "Look at him, Makoto."

Makoto started and tried to pull away. He winced as Onuki-sama's grip grew tight.

"Look at him." His voice was a command.

Makoto stared at the boy. The boy pleaded back with tearful eyes. He was no bandit.

"But he's just a-"

"A little boy? Yes, I suppose he is..." Onuki-sama's voice was distant, almost bored. He sized up the boy for a few moments, taking in those big brown eyes. "Yes.. for now."

There was a new edge to his words. Makoto cast him a glance from the tail of his eye. "Onuki-sama?"

"Tell me, Makoto," Onuki-sama continued, the edge in his voice growing sharper. "Did you spare the men who cut down your grandfather? Your mother?"

Makoto frowned. "But they were-"

"Bandits. Thieves. Murderers." Onuki-sama jerked Makoto's head up to meet his gaze. "They were his family, Makoto."

"But-"

"Brothers, uncles, perhaps even his father," Onuki-sama continued. "You think he'll have forgotten this in five years' time? Ten?"

His tone was as cold as his stare. Makoto swallowed. "Onuki-sama, you can't-"

"Tell me, Makoto, would they have spared you?"

Makoto made no reply. He couldn't meet his eyes.

A faint smile rose to Onuki-sama's lips. It didn't have a hint of kindness in it.

"That's what mercy buys you, Mako-chan." He forced Makoto to meet his gaze again. "You understand, don't you?"

Makoto nodded as best he could. Onuki-sama's glare had turned his body to ice.

"Understand, Mako-chan?" His fingers dug into his arm like talons.

Makoto stifled a squeal. "Y-yes, Onuki-sama!"

Onuki-sama's smile widened. It didn't meet his eyes. "That's more like it." He released his chin and turned to Iwakami. "I'll be in my tent. Try to keep this one quiet."

Iwakami dipped his head in a bow. "As you say, Onuki-sama." He slung the boy under his arm and set off round the corner. His smirk didn't leave his face.

Onuki-sama turned on his heel and strode off in the opposite direction. His face was as set as his path. Makoto had no choice but to follow or be dragged. He pressed on, wincing with every step.

A shriek pierced the air.

The shriek was followed by a slap. The boy gave a stifled sob. Makoto cringed and glanced over his shoulder. Onuki-sama yanked at his arm. The pain jolted his head back towards him.

"Makoto..."

The wind whistled a warning. Makoto swallowed. He wouldn't ask him again. He closed his ears to the boy's sobs and forced himself onwards. He was about to fall back into step when a low chuckle came from the alleyway.

"Still got some fight left in you, eh?"

There was a sickening crack. An anguished howl burst from the boy's lips. Makoto's eyes grew wide as a harvest moon.

"Makoto!" Onuki-sama's voice was strained as tight as his grip.

Makoto gritted his teeth and twisted out of his grasp.

His feet moved faster than his thoughts. He didn't even take the time to draw his sword. He rounded the corner in a heartbeat. The boy lay pinned and cowering. The sight only spurred his anger. Iwakami's head snapped round as he broke into a charge.

He flung himself straight at his back.

His arms closed around the samurai's neck. The boy let out a gasp. Iwakami choked out a curse. He grabbed Makoto's right wrist and broke his grip in an instant. He threw him off like a rag doll.

The impact knocked every breath of air from his lungs. He lay frozen, his mind screaming at his limbs. A shadow loomed over him. A rough hand grabbed his collar and hauled him off his feet. Another slammed him against the wall, cutting off his scream at the throat.

It wasn't Iwakami's eyes that met his. No, Iwakami's eyes held nothing but fire. He'd know these eyes anywhere. These were pure winter.

One glare was enough to end his struggles.

* * *

 _Constructive criticism is very welcome!_

I update once a month.


	14. Bankotsu VII

**DISCLAIMER:** Inuyasha and all of the canon characters featured in this fanfic are the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Publishing, Sunrise, Viz and all other respective copyright owners. I do not lay claim to these characters in any way, shape or form.

* * *

 **Bankotsu VII**

Iwakami came at him like a tidal wave.

Bankotsu leapt aside and flung Daisuke into his path. Iwakami didn't even flinch. He took down Daisuke with a single strike. Daisuke's shoulder was slashed clean open. He hit the ground with a scream.

"Daisuke!" Hiroshi was the first to find his voice. He rushed to Daisuke's side.

Iwakami made no move to stop him. He stood over Daisuke, his eyes as hard as his sword. His gaze stayed fixed on Bankotsu.

Hiroshi knelt down and cradled Daisuke's shoulders. Daisuke gave a groan. His eyes grew cloudy as blood seeped from his wound. Hiroshi cursed and tore off his haori. It did little to staunch the flow.

He turned to Iwakami, his eyes bright with anger. "What the hell are you play-"

"I'm not playing." Iwakami didn't give him so much as a glance. "Keep your mouth shut and your bow down. Unless you want to end up like your friend down there."

"Daisuke didn't-"

"Do shit. As usual." Iwakami heaved a mock sigh. "And now your village needs a new idiot. Guess you could always fill his sandals."

Hiroshi's brows clenched. "Bast-"

"You heard me." Iwakami's eyes narrowed. His gaze didn't waver an inch. "Butt out if you know what's good for you. This one's mine."

He levelled his katana at Bankotsu and surged forwards.

All Bankotsu could do was dodge. Iwakami came straight back at him. He attempted a parry, only to be bulled towards the path. He found his feet in time to avoid another blow.

"Aw, what's this?" Iwakami's mouth broke into a sneer as he drove him back. "Thought you'd be raring to go by now."

Bankotsu bit back a retort and circled to Iwakami's left. Guess he wasn't getting out of this without a fight. That was fine by him. He'd had more than enough of holding back.

The samurai spun to meet his blade. Bankotsu ducked under his arm and slashed upwards. He missed by a hand's breadth. Iwakami smirked and rammed his pommel into his chest.

The blow almost knocked him flat. He caught his balance to avoid another strike. Another false move and he'd be risking broken ribs.

He darted to his right and slashed at Iwakami's side. The samurai parried his knife without missing a step. Bankotsu stumbled back over a root, cursing.

Iwakami saw his chance. He raised his katana and brought the hilt down on Bankotsu's head. Bankotsu dodged it by a hair. He caught his breath as his back came up against a tree. Only one way to go. He threw himself into a sideways roll.

Iwakami's blade struck bark. He wrenched it free with a curse. Bankotsu came up on one knee, sporting a grin of his own.

Iwakami went straight for his head. He had no choice but to launch himself into another roll. Iwakami scoffed and aimed a kick at his ribs. His foot collided with another root. A flash of annoyance creased his brow. An opening. Bankotsu came up knife in hand and struck low.

He hurtled past Iwakami, his blade grazing his calf. A scratch at best. He pitched forwards, grabbing another tree for support. He'd wear himself out at this rate. He need-

He spun to parry Iwakami's blade. Both hands weren't enough to hold him steady. Iwakami snorted and swatted him away. He swallowed a gasp as the katana nicked his left arm.

He staggered back, fighting to stay on his feet. His hand went instinctively to his wound. His forearm brushed against the dart nestled inside his kosode. Pity he hadn't used it while he had the chance. He gritted his teeth. A trickle of blood seeped through his fingers.

Iwakami stood smirking, his bloody blade held before him. He paid no attention to his own wound. Hiroshi was still clinging to Daisuke. One of the spearmen had staggered to his feet, leaning on his weapon for support. None of them took so much as a step in his direction. A stalemate.

Bankotsu's eyes narrowed as Iwakami propped his free arm against a tree. Iwakami met his glare with a chuckle.

"Whoops, don't want to rough you up too much."

Bankotsu's glare hardened. Another inch or two and he'd have ripped his calf open. Yet this bastard was still treating him like a kid. He forced his anger down. He'd make him regret it soon enough.

"Pity. I was just getting started."

Iwakami responded with a laugh. "With that letter opener? Now that I'd like to see."

"I'd like to see you-"

A rustle of leaves was his only warning. Bankotsu whipped round to face another bloody-nosed soldier. One with a spear butt raised right above his head.

He really should be used to this by now.

He cursed and sprang aside. The soldier's eyes shot wide as his spear butt collided with another root. That was all the chance he needed. He rose and slashed at the man's armpit. The man dropped to his knees with a cry.

Bankotsu wrenched the spear from his weakened grasp. He whirled to find Iwakami bearing down on him. A sharp stick wouldn't hold against folded steel. Better even the odds a little. His eyes shot to the bisento dangling above them.

Risky, but chance was all he had left. He shoved the soldier away. He fell sprawling towards Iwakami. The samurai swore and leapt over him. Bankotsu shot past him before he could find his feet. He drove his spear into the ground and vaulted towards the net.

He grabbed the bisento's haft with both hands. The net gave under his weight. He landed crouched and poised, his bisento firmly in his grasp.

Iwakami was on him in an instant. There was no time to parry. He brought the haft up in a two-handed block.

Steel met wood. The katana sheared a jagged chip from his haft. He planted his feet and strained against the samurai's blade. Iwakami grinned and bulled forwards.

Bankotsu could only pull away. Iwakami barely stumbled. He met Bankotsu's next cut with a backhanded parry. Bankotsu swore and slipped aside. Iwakami retorted with another strike. Bankotsu dodged and circled, desperate to keep the samurai at bay. Iwakami pressed on, driving him back with a hail of blows.

Bankotsu kept up his defence, his heart thundering in his chest. His breath was growing shorter by the second. He'd had little food and less sleep. Three battles in one day weren't doing much to help him either. Iwakami was tireless as ever. A few more clashes and he'd be dead on his feet. He'd best finish this fast.

He steeled himself and went straight for Iwakami's head. The samurai blocked him with ease. He whipped back his bisento and aimed another cut at his body. Iwakami parried him away. He drew back, circled and went for his head again. Iwakami rose his blade to meet him.

"Is that all you-"

Bankotsu withdrew his feint and slashed at his legs. Iwakami stepped back to avoid the blow. He stumbled on a stray root. Bankotsu levelled his bisento and charged.

Iwakami blocked him with both hands. The katana took another chip from his haft. A grin rose to Iwakami's lips.

Bankotsu strained against him, gritting his teeth. He'd run straight into that one. The bisento gave a groan. Iwakami's grin widened. The soldiers were back on their feet, creeping closer. Hiroshi had his bow to hand. He couldn't afford another screw up.

He pulled away to avoid Iwakami's counterstrike. Iwakami kept on coming. He needed some space. He dodged another blow and flipped backwards. He landed a few feet from the path. Ready to strike.

The soldiers paused, their spears held poised. Iwakami didn't take the bait. His grin faded into a smirk as he sized him up. Hiroshi's hand hovered above his quiver.

Iwakami quirked an eyebrow. "Well?" His free hand beckoned towards him.

How he longed to split that smirk in two.

He shook the rage out of his head. The spearmen were no problem but Hiroshi was a different story. Take out Iwakami and there'd be nothing holding him back. Take him down...

His left hand went to his aching chest. The dart was still nestled in his kosode. He slipped it inside his sleeve: one last chance. He just needed to get close enough to take it.

He gathered his breath and broke into a final charge.

Iwakami rushed to meet him. Their blades clashed and locked together. The collision almost knocked Bankotsu off his feet. He clenched his teeth and held his ground. The bisento gave an ominous creak. Triumph gleamed in Iwakami's eyes. He grabbed the haft with his left hand and snapped it in two.

Bankotsu swung the other half right into his knee.

"Shit!"

Iwakami's leg gave under him. He dropped back to one knee, driving his katana into the ground for support. The bisento's blade fell from his left hand.

Now or never. Bankotsu slipped the dart from his sleeve. He sprang straight for Iwakami's neck.

Iwakami grabbed his wrist mid-strike.

Shock left him wide open. Iwakami slammed his fist into his chest. The impact knocked him breathless. The dart fell from his hand. Iwakami released his arm. He hit the ground like a bag of rocks.

Iwakami stood over him, satisfaction plastered all over his face. Bankotsu made a feeble grab for the dart. Iwakami kicked it aside and planted his foot on his outstretched hand. Bankotsu winced. He glared a warning.

Iwakami responded with a laugh. "I'd save myself the pain if I were you. Still, it's been fun kid - well, maybe not so much for you," he added as Bankotsu shot him another glare. "But you've kept me waiting long enough."

He bent down and ruffled his hair. His touch sent disgust creeping through his skin. He strained to lift his free hand, his fingers scrabbling uselessly in the dirt. Iwakami gave a mock tut and shifted his weight off his arm. Bankotsu's jaw tightened as he yanked him up by his braid.

Iwakami gave another laugh. "Don't worry, it's too pretty to cut." He reached out and grabbed Bankotsu's chin. He forced his head up to meet his gaze.

Bankotsu's eyes grew wide. He tried to pull away. Iwakami's grip held fast. The gleam in his eyes sent a trickle of sweat down his spine.

"Oh, don't give me those big blue eyes. You had plenty to say for yourself earlier." He leaned closer. So close his breath stirred the strands of hair clinging to his brow. "Maybe you could do with a little persuading, hmm?" He caressed his cheek with a finger.

Bankotsu slammed his left fist right into Iwakami's face.

"Fuck!" Iwakami's head snapped back like a whip. He dropped Bankotsu and fell back, clutching his bloody nose.

Bankotsu hit the ground with a gasp. He sucked in a breath and forced himself onto one elbow. His hand groped desperately for a weapon. His fingers were inches from the dart. If he could just-

A boot crashed down, crushing the dart to splinters. Iwakami loomed over him with a face like a thundercloud.

"You little..."

He slammed a kick into his ribs. There was a sickening crunch. The blow sent him sprawling into a tangle of roots. A yelp forced its way out of his throat. His body coiled with pain. He squeezed an eye open as Iwakami's footsteps approached.

Two spears were poised above him. Hiroshi had him in his sights. There wasn't a hint of amusement left in the samurai's eyes.

"Make one move and-"

He never got the chance.

A shiver of steel rippled through the clearing. Hiroshi gave a yell. Iwakami threw himself aside.

The others didn't even have time to look. One spearman's head was torn from his shoulders in the blink of an eye. The other's arm fell down to join it. A scream tore from his lungs.

"Bastard!"

Iwakami rolled to his feet. He winced as he brought his katana up to eye level. Blood dripped from the gash in his forearm. His breath came short and heavy. There was a hint of panic in his eyes.

An unmistakable figure stood before them. His blade dripped with blood. His chest heaved with fury. His eyes were aflame with vengeance.

"Jakotsu..."

* * *

 _Constructive criticism is very welcome!_

I update once a month.


	15. Makoto VIII

**DISCLAIMER:** Inuyasha and all of the canon characters featured in this fanfic are the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Publishing, Sunrise, Viz and all other respective copyright owners. I do not lay claim to these characters in any way, shape or form.

 **Author's notes:**

After giving it some thought, I've decided to split next month's chapter in two. I felt I was trying to pack too much into one chapter and wouldn't have time to do the story justice. So you'll have to wait a little longer for the conclusion but you'll be getting 18 chapters instead of 17 (if you count the prologue and epilogue as full chapters).

* * *

 **Makoto VIII**

Makoto woke with a gasp. The darkness was thick enough to choke him. His heart hammered as his vision swam back into focus. He was back in the castle in his own bed. It was just a dream.

He stared at the ceiling, his chest straining for air. His throat was bone dry. He rolled onto his side to check on Kei and the twins. Fast asleep. No one else stirred.

Just another stupid dream.

Yet no matter how many times he told himself that it never kept the nightmares at bay. It didn't matter how tight he closed his eyes. He could never shut out the screams.

His stomach heaved. He'd barely eaten a thing last night. Even the leftover carp and pheasant from the Daimyou's homecoming banquet hadn't tempted him. All he could taste was fear.

Bile rose in his throat. He hauled himself out of bed and crawled towards the nearest bucket. He caught the rim just before his stomach gave way.

His shoulders shook as he retched. His body still ached like a broken tooth. His bruises may have faded but some wounds took longer to heal.

His memories left even deeper scars. He'd hadn't had any strength left to resist by the time Onuki-sama got hold of him. That hadn't made him any gentler. He'd spared him nothing. Yet that wasn't even the worst part.

That was when he'd told Iwakami to leave.

His stomach heaved its last. He gulped down a few breaths and wiped his mouth. The bucket was almost empty. He'd still better take care of it.

He raised his head and caught a shadow creeping up behind him. Someone laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. He whirled on the stranger with an upraised fist.

He was met with a gasp and a pair of huge brown eyes.

Makoto halted. His fist hung in the air, trembling with tension. Kei stared at him in silence. He let his hand fall. The strain didn't leave his face.

"Makoto?" Kei's voice was little more than a whisper.

He didn't reply. His heart was still in his throat. He forced down a deep breath.

"You okay?"

Makoto let out a sigh. He gave him a small nod.

"It's... it's nothing. Just a stupid dream."

"Oh." Kei edged closer. "You sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine. Go back to sleep."

"You're shaking."

"It's just the cold." He turned away.

"Oh." Kei didn't sound too convinced. "Well, if you're cold you - you could stay with me. If you want."

Makoto's heart froze. He forced out a reply.

"Y-you want..."

Kei started. "Ah, not like that! I only..." His voice caught in his throat. Makoto didn't need a lantern to know he was blushing.

"I... I get bad dreams too."

The tension left Makoto's shoulders. Was that all this was about? Well, Kei was still a kid after all.

"You too, huh."

There was a rustle as Kei gave him a nod. "Big brother let me stay with him sometimes, only..."

His voice caught again. Kei's brother had turned sixteen last summer. The summer of his first battle. Not to mention his last.

He didn't need to burden him with any more worries. Not on a night like this. He turned away with a sigh. There were some things best left unsaid, even with Kei. He began to grope his way back to bed.

Kei reached for his shoulder again. "Mako-"

He shrugged him away. "Just go back to sleep, Kei."

"But.."

"Please?"

Kei swallowed his questions and gave him a nod. He settled down in his own bed.

Makoto waited until he stopped shifting and rolled over to face the other boys. Kei had already slipped back into sleep. If only he could do that so easily. He eased himself onto one elbow and caught a pair of dark eyes staring at him.

They belonged to one of the twins. The younger one. Yu-something or other. The look he gave him was indescribable but he didn't need to say a word.

He understood well enough.

* * *

His eyes opened to Nagisa's frown. Worry flickered across his face. He smothered it in his blankets. Nagisa cleared her throat and tugged the blankets away.

"The young master wishes for you to bring him breakfast."

Makoto blinked and rubbed his eyes. Surely it couldn't be dawn already? The shaft of sunlight piercing the blinds soon chased away his hopes. Dawn had come long ago.

"Be quick about it. Onuki-sama will not be kept waiting." There was a new light in her eyes. Something cruel tugged at the corner of her mouth. It was almost a smirk.

He dragged himself out of bed and went to dress. Nagisa was waiting for him with a tray. He took it with a mumbled thanks. He didn't even glance at the food. The smell alone was enough to make his stomach churn. It was all he could do to keep the tray steady. At least the other servants were too busy to bother him.

He dragged out the walk to the palace as long as he dared. He'd barely seen Onuki-sama since that day in the village. He'd been too sore to do much outside of stay in bed for the next few days. Onuki-sama had claimed he had a fever. No one else would risk getting close enough to check.

The journey back had kept everyone too busy to ask many questions. Even Onuki-sama hadn't said more than ten words to him in as many days. As for Iwakami... he'd be more than happy if he never set eyes on him again.

He reached the palace far sooner than he would have liked. Two samurai were stationed outside Onuki-sama's chambers, each with a pair of katanas at their waists. Neither paid him much mind. All he had to do was bring in the tray. It wasn't that hard.

His feet still didn't want to move forwards. He hovered on the spot, shifting from foot to foot. One of the samurai gave a small cough. Even that was enough to make him jump. He cursed as the tray almost slipped his grip. He'd just about steadied it when Onuki-sama's voice drifted through the doorway.

"You have my thanks, Kei."

Kei? Makoto snuck a peak through the doorway. Onuki-sama sat on the tatami matting, freshly bathed and dressed. His hair hung loose over his shoulders. Kei sat behind him, running a comb through his tresses.

The sight snatched his breath away. He'd done the same every morning during the campaign. An icy hand gripped his heart.

He peered closer. O-Shizu sat beside her husband on a silk cushion, accompanied by their son and his nursemaid. She dangled a cloth doll above the gurgling infant. Her face was as content as his. Yet all those layers could only conceal so much. Beneath her kosode her stomach was as flat as Kei's.

Too soon. Nagisa had said as much, although not within Onuki-sama's hearing. The loss hadn't touched him too deeply, however. His face was even more serene than his wife's.

Onuki-sama raised his eyes as Makoto snuck through the doorway. "Ah, Makoto. Perfect timing."

He raised his hand. Kei slid the comb from his hair and shuffled back. He met Makoto's stare with a smile.

Makoto returned it as best he could. He flicked his gaze in Onuki-sama's direction.

Onuki-sama paid him no mind. He gave Kei a nod.

"That will be all for now."

Kei returned the nod. He put the comb back in its box and gave Onuki-sama a kneeling bow. Onuki-sama placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Relax. You're free to go." He gave his shoulder a little squeeze.

How many times had he done the same to him?

Kei scrambled to his feet and backed out of the room. He cast a curious glance at Makoto before leaving. His smile was bright as ever.

The fist around Makoto's heart grew tighter.

Onuki-sama turned his gaze back on him. "And how are you, Makoto?"

"Better. Onuki-sama," he added. He still couldn't look him in the face.

"Better enough to stay for breakfast?"

Makoto blinked. Food was the last thing on his mind right now. He took a glance at the tray's contents: a pot of tea, miso soup, steamed rice, pickles and a fresh piece of grilled trout. There were only two cups.

"Um..." He glanced in the lady's direction. She avoided his gaze.

"O-Shizu prefers to eat early." Onuki-sama inclined his chin towards the door.

O-Shizu raised her eyes. She kept them well away from Makoto. Nor did she make any move to get up. Her son made a small cry as the dangling ceased.

"Husband..."

"That will be all, O-Shizu." His voice was mild. His eyes flashed a warning.

She rose to her feet. It didn't add that much to her height. Makoto had overtaken her by at least an inch that summer. She gathered her uchikake about her, burying her resentment in its folds. She took as much time as she dared.

The nursemaid scooped up her son and followed her out of the room. The boy gave another cry as he was whisked out of his father's sight. Onuki-sama gave him a small wave. O-Shizu remained silent. Makoto glimpsed a flicker of anger in those big doe eyes before the door slid shut.

"Well, now that that's settled..." Onuki-sama patted the mat beside him.

Makoto almost flinched. He steadied himself and sat down, a good mat's distance away from him. He kept his eyes fixed on the floor. All he had to do was stay calm...

His stomach betrayed him with a growl.

He flushed and looked away. Onuki-sama's smile widened a fraction.

"Hungry?"

Makoto's blush deepened. Despite his stomach's protests, he'd never felt less hungry in his life. The rice was the safest bet. He spooned a little into his bowl. Onuki-sama raised an eyebrow. He added another spoonful.

Onuki-sama made no comment. His eyes still rested on Makoto's face. Makoto took a hasty mouthful. Onuki-sama relaxed his gaze. He took the other bowl and filled it with rice. He set it down and reached for the teapot.

Makoto gave a cough. "Um, Onuki-sama-"

"By all means, help yourself." He poured some tea into his cup. His eyes never left Makoto's face yet he didn't spill a drop. "There's plenty to go round." He offered the cup to Makoto.

Makoto tensed as his hand brushed against the samurai's. It was all he could do not to snatch it straight back. He set down his cup and filled another for Onuki-sama. He took it with a nod.

He made no move to drink it.

 _You first._ He shouldn't have been surprised, yet his suspicion stung all the same. It wasn't as though he could refuse. He tried a little rice. His mouth was as dry as the autumn leaves. The tea made it go down easier.

Onuki-sama waited until he swallowed before taking a sip of tea. His gaze still lingered on Makoto's face.

"So, Mako-chan." He paused to weigh his words. "I've been thinking..."

Makoto swallowed and put down his bowl. "O-Onuki-sama?"

"Perhaps it's time I gave you some more fitting duties." His voice was a little too calm, a little too steady.

"I..." Makoto's tongue clung to the roof of his mouth. He forced down some more tea and cleared his throat. "I don't mind the work, Onuki-sama."

"Still, with swordsmanship like yours..." He gave a mock sigh. "I can't have you chopping wood all day."

Chopping wood didn't sound too bad right now. It was better than sitting here, suffocating under the weight of Onuki-sama's stare. The longer he paused, the heavier it grew. Gooseflesh rose on his arms. His stomach gave another lurch. He pushed his bowl aside.

"I'm-"

"Not hungry? And you barely had a thing yesterday." Onuki-sama gave him a frown. He offered him a piece of trout. "Eat up, Mako-chan. We can't have you losing your looks now, can we?"

Makoto suppressed a cringe as he caught the edge to his words. He choked down a sliver of trout and reached for his cup. It was near as dry as his throat. He reached for the teapot. Onuki-sama got there first.

"Please, allow me." He leaned over and refilled his cup. "You know, I could easily find you a place here. I could do with another bodyguard."

"Bodyguard?" Was he joking? He may be able to outfight most of the common soldiers but he was still thirteen. His brows creased into a frown.

"Then again, the garrison has been rather short-handed as of late." Onuki-sama's tone was light. Disturbingly so.

"The garrison?" Makoto couldn't keep the worry out of his voice this time. He tried another sip of tea to calm his fears.

"Well, if that's what you want, of course." Onuki-sama favoured him with a sly smile. "Sukemori certainly wouldn't say no to you."

Onuki-sama or Iwakami. Was that what it came down to? The thought filled his stomach with ice. Onuki-sama's smile widened as he weighed up his options.

He'd never really had a choice.

"I-" He almost choked on the words. He took another breath and forced them out. "I-I'd like to stay. Here. W-with you. Onuki-sama."

Onuki-sama tilted his head to one side. His expression was flat as a garden pond. "Is that so?"

Makoto bowed his head. Shame burned his cheeks. A raw pain burned inside his chest. He bowed lower to hide the anger in his eyes.

"Yes, Onuki-sama."

"I see." He slid his hand over Makoto's. His grip circled his wrist like a shackle. Makoto couldn't keep himself from flinching.

"Don't worry. My father won't object. And if anyone else does..." The light in his eyes said more than enough. His hand reached up to stroke Makoto's hair.

As if he was a pet. Makoto couldn't suppress his shudder. Yet there was one question he couldn't hold back.

"W-will Kei-chan..."

Onuki-sama froze him with a stare. His tongue turned to ice. His body wouldn't stop shaking. Onuki-sama leaned in until he was close enough to kiss.

"Oh, Mako-chan." His voice was dangerously soft. "Sometimes I do wonder what goes on inside that pretty little head of yours."

Makoto's scream was silenced as the teacup hit the floor.

* * *

 _Constructive criticism is very welcome!_

I update once a month.


	16. Kessen I

**DISCLAIMER:** Inuyasha and all of the canon characters featured in this fanfic are the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Publishing, Sunrise, Viz and all other respective copyright owners. I do not lay claim to these characters in any way, shape or form.

 **Author's notes:**

Finally got this one done. The last month has been rather busy.

Splitting this fight into two separate P.O.V.s just wasn't working so I decided to switch things up a little. I decided to give the final two chapters a different set of titles since this is where the two storylines converge (yes, there will be an epilogue after the final full-length chapter).

 **Glossary**

 _Wakizashi_ \- a backup or auxiliary sword, usually worn alongside a katana. It was also used for close quarters fighting to behead a defeated opponent and sometimes to commit seppuku, a ritual suicide.

* * *

 **Kessen I**

His fear fled the moment he entered the clearing.

Jakotsu had left the shinobi with more questions than answers. His doubts had gnawed at the pit of his stomach all morning. His every footstep was weighted with tension. Finally, something - some hunch, some buried instinct or just some sheer damned luck - made him turn back.

It took less than an hour to retrace his path. Tracing Bankotsu's proved a little trickier. He was near giving up when he caught the clash of weapons. He broke into a run after the first scream.

The temple was a bloodbath by the time he got there. The bandits had died like flies. Iwakami's lackeys hadn't fared much better. The samurai was the only man left standing. Bankotsu lay curled up on the ground before him, clutching his broken ribs.

The sight drove all hesitation from his mind. There was no room for anything but rage.

"You bastard..." His voice was thick with fury.

"Figured you'd show up for your little friend here." Iwakami made no effort to suppress his satisfaction. "Did you have fun with Shinta-chan? Poor bastard. Told him not to take you on alone but he was never much of a listener."

It was all he could do not to rip the smirk off his face.

"Guess you did shiv his dear old dad and all." Iwakami shook his head in mock pity. "Shame you couldn't get here earlier. That little shit's nearly as stubborn as you are."

"He's a fucking kid!"

"Oh?" Iwakami raised an eyebrow. "Ever think about that before you butchered Onuki's brat?"

Jakotsu responded with a glare. "Like you can-"

"Or how about before you slit Kei-chan's-"

 _Bastard._ Anger tore through him like a gale. He whipped back Jakotsutou and went straight for his head.

Iwakami barely got his guard up in time. The blades glanced away, leaving only a scratch. Bankotsu peeked upwards, his eyes wide with surprise. Iwakami's smirk held fast.

"Touchy, aren't you? Guess you think they deserved it and all." Iwakami's voice was sharp with contempt.

" _He_ did." Onuki got better than he deserved. A thousand times worse would have been too good for that bastard.

Iwakami answered him with a dry laugh. "Well, didn't think you'd spit it out that quick." He kept his guard steady. "Trouble is, I can't let you off so easy. Not after that little... incident."

Jakotsu's eyes narrowed. "Keep talking shit and I'll-"

"Heh, fair enough." The smirk returned to his face. "Drop the sword and I'll go easy on the brat."

"Like hell you will." He raised his dripping blade.

Iwakami's smirk widened. "You sure about that, Mako-chan? Last time didn't go too well for you now, did it?" He inched closer to Bankotsu.

Too close. He slammed Jakotsutou down between them.

Iwakami whipped his head back. A few severed hairs fluttered to the ground. "Damn, you are serious about this." He let out a bark of laughter. "Fine by me. It's no fun if you come quietly." A glint rose in his eyes.

Bankotsu hadn't moved from the spot. He stayed quiet but his eyes were fixed on Jakotsu. They lit up with a flicker of hope.

Jakotsu drew back his sword and let it fly.

Iwakami brought his blade up to parry. Jakotsu came straight back at him. The samurai slipped aside, grunting as the blades glanced off his katana. One nicked his thigh. He shrugged it off with a snort.

Jakotsu whipped his sword back for another strike. Iwakami dodged it by a finger's breadth. The blades struck ground; far too close to Bankotsu's head for his liking. He sucked in a breath. Small wonder Iwakami was so confident. The gutless bastard was using him as a shield.

He swallowed his rage and pulled back. Iwakami didn't press him. His breath was even but he still favoured his left leg. He hadn't moved more than six feet from his starting position. Strike low and he'd have no choice but to move or go down.

And he'd be risking Bankotsu's neck.

"Come on, Mako-chan. Thought you had a bit more go in you than this." Iwakami edged a step towards Bankotsu. "Maybe this'll wake you up a little."

Jakotsu caught Bankotsu's eye. He responded with a faint nod.

Iwakami snickered at the exchange. "You don't want to take your eyes off-"

Jakotsu feinted high and swung low. Iwakami leapt back with a curse. The blades whistled past him, mere inches from Bankotsu's face. Jakotsu pressed forwards, undeterred. He went straight for the kill.

Iwakami raised his guard to stop the blades from taking his head. One bit at his forearm before making its retreat. Another scratch. He grunted a curse.

Jakotsu did likewise. This needed to end fast. Even Iwakami couldn't stay standing with half his blood on the ground but every second he took his eyes off Bankotsu was a gamble. He readied himself for another deathblow.

"Jakotsu!"

Bankotsu's voice drew him to a halt. He glanced out of the tail of his eye and caught Hiroshi stealing towards Bankotsu. Just the opportunity that bastard had been waiting for.

"Shit!"

He spun towards Hiroshi. His bow was already half-drawn. He gritted his teeth and lashed out with Jakotsutou.

The blades severed the bow clean in two. Hiroshi's hand dropped down to join its remains.

"Fuck!"

Hiroshi clutched at his bleeding stump, his eyes wide with pain and fury. Jakotsu fixed him with a stare that made them wider still. The next blow would take his head.

"Be-"

Jakotsu whirled to parry Iwakami's sneak attack. Bankotsu's warning was lost in the clash of steel.

The impact sent shockwaves through his bones. He gritted his teeth and strained against Iwakami's blade. He barely kept his footing.

Iwakami met him with a wild grin. "Getting sloppy, Mako-chan?"

He wasn't worth a reply. Jakotsu aimed a kick at his wounded knee. His armour took most of it, yet it still brought a wince to his face.

Iwakami cursed and broke away. Jakotsu went for his head again. He was met with a counterstrike that forced him back. Iwakami pressed on, driving him towards the trees.

"Watch your-"

Jakotsu caught Bankotsu's warning and slipped aside. Iwakami's blade hit bark. He wrenched it free with another curse.

Any opening was worth the risk. He made a violent swing at the samurai's wounded arm. Iwakami dodged it with ease. Jakotsu stumbled forwards and tripped over a root. He caught his balance with a gasp. He looked up to find the samurai bearing down on him

He didn't have time to raise his guard. Iwakami's pommel took him right in the gut.

He thudded into the tree with a groan. Iwakami rushed in to finish him. He flung up Jakotsutou in a desperate parry. It took both hands to keep the katana from his throat.

Iwakami pressed closer, his savage grin twisting his features. "Think you'd better quit while you're in one piece, Mako-chan."

"Don't call me that," Jakotsu spat. He strained to push him away. The samurai didn't so much as falter.

"Don't think you're in much of a position to argue." Iwakami leaned closer still. His breath sent a shudder down his spine. "Now, are you going to play smart for once or am I going to have to drag you all the way back again?"

Jakotsu clenched his teeth as the sword neared his neck. It was all he could do to hold it back.

"Don't worry, I'm sure Uncle Masayoshi would like nothing better than a nice long chat with you." His eyes gleamed with bloody lust. "Course, the old fart never liked me much but next to you..." He gave a humourless laugh.

"Some chance you've got. He only let you keep your head because of that bastard."

Iwakami responded with another laugh. "And I suppose he'll let you keep yours? You've got enough blood on your hands to flood a castle."

Jakotsu winced and turned his face to avoid the encroaching blade. His eyes sought wildly for an opening. Hiroshi had staggered back to his feet. The tattered remains of his kosode's left sleeve were wrapped around his bleeding stump. His right hand was clutching a knife. His eyes were still fixed on Bankotsu. The boy met him with a glare. It was the only weapon he had left.

Jakotsu relaxed his arms and ducked.

Iwakami's katana sliced into the tree trunk. Jakotsu didn't waste a moment. He slammed his pommel straight into the samurai's wounded knee.

Iwakami dropped like the sack of shit he was. Jakotsu didn't look back. He slipped aside and made a dash for Bankotsu.

Hiroshi didn't see him coming. Jakotsutou closed the distance between them before he could even turn his head. He went down in an arc of gore.

Jakotsu made a rush towards Bankotsu's side. Hiroshi lay between them, groaning in his own blood. Best finish him while he had the chance.

He was three paces away when something smacked into the back of his head.

He went down like a stone. Jakotsutou fell from his grasp. He groaned as stars swam before his eyes. He shook them away. His hazy eyes made out a rock lying next to his head.

He hauled himself onto one elbow and reached for his sword. A foot slammed down on his blade. Iwakami loomed over him, his wakizashi in hand. Murder was in his eyes.

Jakotsu released his grip and rolled away from a vicious kick. He scrambled to his feet, his head still ringing. Iwakami lurched after him. He leapt aside from another blow. His hand went to his sleeve and drew his knife.

"Stand and fight you little-"

Iwakami's voice was cut off by the clash of steel. He shoved Jakotsu away with a snarl.

Jakotsu found his feet and struck again. Iwakami parried him away. He backed off, his eyes hunting for an opening. Iwakami would be on him in a second. A knife couldn't counter his reach. He'd never get to Jakotsutou in time but he did have another weapon on him.

He reached up with his left hand and pulled his hairpin free.

Iwakami was on him in a flash. He countered with both weapons. Iwakami's blow almost brought him to his knees. He couldn't hold him for long. He aimed another kick at his knee. Iwakami saw it coming and stepped aside. Jakotsu's knife faltered. He swore and slipped away. Iwakami's blade bit dirt.

Jakotsu whirled and slashed at the air. Iwakami was well out of reach. Jakotsu frowned, only for his eyes to shoot wide when he caught sight of his real target.

"Bankotsu!"

He rushed forwards and threw himself into the samurai's path. He raised his arms to block the oncoming blade. Even a one-handed blow was enough to make his bones shudder.

Iwakami's free hand grabbed his right wrist.

His knee slammed into Jakotsu's ribs. The breath was forced from his lungs. The knife was yanked from his grasp. Iwakami grabbed him by the neck and slammed him to the ground.

His scream was crushed beneath the samurai's bulk. Iwakami planted his wakizashi beside his head. He went straight for his arm. Iwakami seized his wrist. His eyes clenched shut as Iwakami's grip tightened around his throat.

"Now where were we?" Iwakami's tone was dangerously soft. "Guess the Onuki will want your head on a spike. Don't think they're too picky about what I do with the rest of you." His voice gave way to a chuckle.

Jakotsu forced an eye open. He shot him the worst glare he could muster.

"Fuck... you..."

"Didn't think you liked me that much." Iwakami's smile froze his blood. One of his fingers toyed with a stray strand of his hair. Bile rose in his throat.

"Well if you're-"

Jakotsu hawked and spat at his face. It only got as far as his sleeve.

Iwakami let out a sigh. He didn't even wipe it off.

"Just drop it already, Mako-chan. You never could beat me in a fair fight and you know it." He slammed his left hand back to the ground. Jakotsu's right hand lost its grip as he winced from the impact. His left still clutched the hairpin.

"Just like you couldn't beat Onuki."

Jakotsu's jaw tightened. Neither of those bastards had won a fair fight in their lives. He hardened his glare and forced out a word.

" _No._ "

"Typical Mako-chan. Sweet as poison." Iwakami let out another chuckle. "Though I might be able to make you a little sweeter." His hand left his throat and began to trail its way down his chest.

The air in his lungs froze. His limbs did the same. Rage and terror warred inside him. Bile threatened to overwhelm both. He couldn't let it end like-

Iwakami let out an anguished yell.

His fingers clawed at Jakotsu's skin. He turned to scowl at the pain's source. Bankotsu was crouched beside him, clutching the knife buried in his thigh.

"Fucking brat!" Iwakami laid him out with a backhand. He turned and reached for his sword.

That cost him dear. Jakotsu twisted in his grasp and stabbed the hairpin into his arm. Iwakami let loose a howl of pain. Jakotsu took his chance. He hooked his leg over Iwakami's and rolled his hips to the side. The samurai crashed to the ground beneath him.

Iwakami swore and tried to throw his legs around his waist. Jakotsu slugged him across the face. He grabbed the wakizashi and drove it through Iwakami's shoulder.

Iwakami's scream was sweeter than honey. He writhed and grabbed at Jakotsu's collar. Jakotsu forced his arm back down with his knee. He thrust the hairpin through his hand for good measure.

Iwakami glared up at him, his face contorted with agony. "Got what you want, you little bitch?"

"Heh, don't worry." Jakotsu's voice slid into a dangerous purr. "I'm not finished yet."

Iwakami managed to sneer through the pain. "Like you've got the balls for th-" He broke into another howl as Jakotsu wrenched the knife from his thigh.

When he opened his eyes it was at his throat.

* * *

 _Constructive criticism is very welcome!_

I update once a month.


	17. Kessen II

**DISCLAIMER:** Inuyasha and all of the canon characters featured in this fanfic are the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Publishing, Sunrise, Viz and all other respective copyright owners. I do not lay claim to these characters in any way, shape or form.

 **Author's notes:**

I'm so glad I decided to split this one in two. ^^;

* * *

 **Kessen II**

It was the first time he'd seen Iwakami at a loss for words.

The samurai lay frozen beneath him, his eyes as wide as the sky. His heavy breath misted Jakotsu's blade. Sweat slid down his brow. Long moments passed between them. Iwakami was the first to break the silence.

"Try it and-"

Jakotsu gave a mirthless laugh. "Don't get your hopes up. I'd sooner fuck a hornet's nest." He pressed the knifepoint into his skin. "You want to die fast? Beg for it."

Iwakami stared back for a few moments. Then his stare gave way to a smile. The bastard was _smiling_ at him.

He let out a low, rasping chuckle. "Beg?"

"You heard me."

Jakotsu slid the knife down to his chest. He ripped part of his armour away. The knife left a thin trickle of blood down his neck.

Iwakami somehow managed to keep smiling through the pain. "For you? You think-"

Jakotsu responded with a punch.

Iwakami took it with a mere grunt. He wrinkled his battered features in scorn. "Brat hit harder than you."

"Didn't I tell you?" Jakotsu's free hand curled around the wakizashi's hilt. His voice was strained to breaking. "I'm not finished yet."

He twisted the blade. Iwakami's retort died in a scream.

"I _did_ warn you."

Iwakami didn't reply. His eyes sought Hiroshi's. He had even less of a chance than he did yet the old bastard was still clinging onto life by his fingertips. His gaze was remarkably steady for a dying man. And colder than the steel. He wouldn't move so much as a finger for him.

Iwakami's glare shot back to Jakotsu. "The Daimyou..."

"Isn't coming." Jakotsu's smile was lethally sharp.

"Little bitch..." Iwakami's words were growing more laboured by the moment. "Think I'm-"

"Think?" Jakotsu gave the sword another wrench. He was rewarded with another scream. "You should try it some time. Or are you forgetting?"

"Fuck y-"

"No Daimyou. No Onuki." He raised his knife. "No one for you to hide behind. Not this time."

Iwakami's lips curled in the mockery of a smile. "Who's hiding?" He gave a laugh that ended in a cough. "Onuki... that brat... Think you're better-"

"Better than you'll ever be." The knife trembled in his hand.

Iwakami's smile widened. "Don't make me..." He gave another cough. Blood spattered Makoto's sleeve. "Never... beat him... never will."

" _Shut up._ "

Iwakami's grin was streaked with blood. "Keep running, Ma-"

The knife came down.

* * *

All it took was one blow.

Makoto had woken to find a guard with a lantern, a dinner tray and a message. Each was less welcome than the last. He'd started dressing as soon as he'd cleared his bowl. Tonight was no time for mistakes.

The Daimyou's sickness had come like thunder on a clear day. Some of the guards said he'd been as fit as a flea that very morning. Others whispered that it was the first time they'd seen him so ill. A few even wondered if it was natural.

None dared suspect it would be his last.

Makoto had the sense not to voice his thoughts. He reached for the kosode he'd picked out that morning. He'd long outgrown the first one Onuki-sama bought him but he was generous with his gifts, if nothing else. This one was sewn of squares of plum and ivory silk with trailing wisteria blossoms picked out in golden thread. Finer than even O-Shizu's garments. It'd most likely wind up on the floor but it was the thought that counted.

At least he'd bathed after training. Onuki-sama rarely had time for him these days but he could find no shortage of practice partners to wear him out. You didn't say no to Onuki-sama.

He applied his powder as evenly as he could in the lantern's pale light. His brass mirror offered only a dull reflection. Onuki-sama knew better than to put glass in his hands. Still, he'd had more than time enough to practice. His eyes and brows were soon done. He finished with a slick of garnet red across his lips. Not bad. But it needed a little something.

He rifled through his trinkets until his fingers settled on a hairpin. That was the first one Onuki-sama had gifted him: a single golden butterfly. It was as fitting as any. He twisted up his hair, slid the pin in place and took one last glance at his reflection. It would do. It would have to.

His head snapped up as the lock gave a click. He dropped to his knees and kept his head low. His eyes flicked upwards.

Onuki-sama stood silhouetted in the doorway. Kei cowered at his heels. No guards accompanied them. He hadn't even brought his katana. His only weapon was a small dagger tucked into the waistband of his hakama. Still, it wasn't as if he'd need it. Kei was weapon enough.

His gaze roamed around the room until it settled on Makoto. Makoto's gaze went back to the floor. Eye contact was never a good idea.

"Well, here we are." Onuki-sama's tone was light. Much too light for such a heavy occasion. "I guess it's a little snug but..."

Kei made no reply. His stare bored into the back of Makoto's neck. He didn't take a single step forwards.

"What's this? I thought you wanted to see Mako-chan." He pushed the boy forwards.

Kei gasped and grabbed at the wall for support. He made a sound that might have been a whimper. He limped aside to avoid another push.

Makoto gritted his teeth. Onuki-sama would never do anything permanent to one of his favourites but he'd been growing more heavy-handed of late. He'd best take his mind off Kei as soon as possible.

"Oh, suit yourself." Onuki-sama was already bored. Never a good sign.

The samurai shoved Kei into a corner. The boy stumbled to his knees with a cry. He didn't even try to get back up.

Onuki-sama locked and barred the door. He dusted off his hands and strode towards Makoto. He caught the whiff of sake as he drew closer. He'd had a drop too much of it, judging by the stagger in his step. He fought to suppress a flinch. He'd better guard his tongue.

A rough hand landed on his shoulder. He kept his head down. Onuki-sama preferred him on his knees. These days he was level with his eyes rather than his chest. One day he might even be looking down on him. Now wasn't the best time to remind him.

"Onuki-sama?" He risked a quick glance.

"Need you ask?" He broke into a sly smile and patted the futon.

He was soon done with him. Sake always made him rougher but at least it made him quicker. Whether it was the drink or the weight of a heavy mind, he was in no mood to stay the night. He rolled off the futon and left Makoto to clean up.

He didn't so much as glance at Kei. The boy hadn't taken his eyes off the wall since he'd fallen. Onuki-sama would soon tire of him, as he'd soon tired of the twins. Broken toys didn't interest him. With Makoto he could at least find the odd spark of rebellion left to crush.

Yet even that challenge was growing stale. His last few visits had all been short. Short and further and further apart. There'd soon come a day when tormenting him lost its allure. And when it came...

"Will you require anything more Onuki-sama?" That was usually a safe question.

"Not tonight, Mako-chan... duty calls." He turned away.

Makoto gave him a nod. He retrieved a small comb and began running it through his hair. It wouldn't take long to smooth it out. Smoothing out his doubts was another matter. He risked another question.

"Your lord father?"

Onuki-sama gave a sigh. "I forget. You don't get out much, do you?" He shook his head. As if it was Makoto's fault. As usual. "He's not too well. You may have heard."

Makoto put down the comb and reached for his hairpin. He kept his face neutral.

"I pray for his return to health." He didn't have much of an alternative.

"There's no need. He won't see sunrise."

Makoto blinked. "Onuki-sama?"

"He's an old man, Mako-chan. Past fifty. His time was bound to come sooner or later."

Makoto couldn't hide his shock this time. "He's the Daimyou," he blurted out.

He gave himself a mental kick in the shin. At least he hadn't had the stupidity to add 'and your father'. Of course Onuki-sama would be the next Daimyou. Who would refuse him?

Onuki-sama let out another sigh. "Ah, I'm forgetting myself again. I suppose you wouldn't know, would you?"

A frown rose to his brow. He suppressed it with a smile. "Know what, Onuki-sama?"

"The joys of family." His voice held years of bitterness. "Still, I should be thankful. Your father didn't do you many favours, did he? Well, apart from Jatou." He gave a brief chuckle.

Mama and Grandpa had been family enough for Makoto. His tongue moved faster than his thoughts. "Grandpa made-"

"Ah, yes, your grandfather. Such a pity." He shook his head in mock remorse. "Old fool didn't have the sense to leave that dump while he had the chance."

Makoto had to clap his hand to his mouth to hold back his retort. He'd long lost count of the barbs Onuki-sama had slung at him over the years. But he'd never talked about Grandpa like this before. He looked away before he could catch the fire in his eyes.

Onuki-sama carried on talking as if he wasn't there. "Shame I never asked your mother. Perhaps she'd have been a bit more... willing."

His tone set Makoto's teeth on edge. After all they'd had done for him. His grip tightened around the hairpin. His tongue just couldn't stay put.

"She wouldn't-"

Onuki-sama cut him off with a smile. "There's only one way women make money, Mako-chan." He reached over and patted him on the head. "Honestly... what would you do without me?"

His last shred of control gave way.

All it took was one blow. Onuki-sama crumpled like a leaf. His eyes grew wide with pain. They shot to the hairpin buried in his stomach.

"You..."

He slumped to the floor with a groan. His hands clutched at the hairpin. Kei let out a gasp. Onuki-sama's fingers were too unsteady to draw it out. There was no hiding the hint of panic in his eyes.

Makoto stared down at him, his eyes even wider than Onuki-sama's. His breath fluttered in his throat. His shoulders trembled. Yet a flame sparked deep inside him. He couldn't tear his gaze from the samurai. He was much less intimidating on his knees. Much more vulnerable. Almost helpless. A smile rose to his lips.

Onuki-sama glared up at him. "D-damn you..."

His hand went to the knife at his hip. Makoto's hand was quicker. He whipped the blade away before he could clutch his empty sheath.

"Makoto!"

He made a grab for his arm. The sake had slowed him somewhat but he was fast when threatened. Makoto was faster. He sprang forwards and tackled him to the floor.

Onuki-sama gasped and twisted beneath him. He seized Makoto's collar. Too slow again. The knife was already at his throat. The panic in his eyes shifted into horror.

That sight was worth any risk. The fire growing in his stomach spurred him on. He gave the samurai his sweetest smile. His voice was sweeter still.

"Is something wrong, Onuki-sama?"

The samurai fixed him with another glare. Kei shrank back against the wall. That would have sent Makoto scurrying only moments before. How quickly things could change. His fear was burning away.

"Put. It. Down. Makoto." Every word was agony.

How could he refuse him? He drove the knife deep into his shoulder.

 _That_ made him scream. Long and loud. It was the sweetest sound he'd ever made. His hand lost its grip and hit the floor. His fingers clenched in agony.

Makoto withdrew the knife. Onuki-sama writhed and groaned beneath him. So beautiful. Just like when they first met.

His smile broke into a grin. He slid a trail of crimson across his chest.

His second scream was even sweeter. His struggles only aggravated his wound. So much blood. Kei began to whimper. Makoto paid him no mind. A hot shiver slid down his spine. He raised the knife again.

The samurai rasped out another word.

"Stop..."

Makoto wouldn't stop. Not for a moment.

He'd learned what mercy bought you.

Onuki-sama was long gone by the time the guards broke through the door. The sight that awaited them left them speechless. All they could do was gape. No use. As usual. They'd never come for his screams.

He took care of them in a matter of moments. Three garden-variety watchmen were nothing after Onuki-sama. One didn't even have time to draw his sword. He bent down to slide it from its scabbard. He took Onuki-sama's keys too. He left him the hairpin.

Kei watched him with big moon eyes. He hadn't moved an inch. Makoto levelled his blade and turned to face him. That sent him scurrying. He scrabbled out of the doorway as fast as his wounded leg could carry him.

Makoto let him go. Kei was no threat. Let them come. One or a thousand. There was only one thing that mattered right now.

He soon found his way to the steps that led to the trapdoor. Onuki-sama's rooms were quiet at this hour. It would be some time before the bodies were found. He'd had more than long enough to get to know the castle's secrets. The third mat he dislodged revealed a loose floorboard. He pulled it up to reveal a lacquered wooden box. He replaced it with the katana. Good job he'd taken those keys.

The box opened with the faintest of clicks. He slid Jatou from its sleeve of silk. The blade flickered like a snake's tongue in the lantern light. A smile rose to his lips. With Jatou in his hand, he was almost-

A creak came from behind him. He spun and brandished his blade at the unseen threat.

O-Shizu stood in the doorway, her face whiter than her yukata. She held a paper lantern in one hand. The other clutched at the doorframe. Her wailing son clutched at her sleeve. Her eyes grew wide with terror as she glimpsed the blood on his kosode.

She opened her mouth to scream.

Jatou stopped her a fraction too late. The lantern was hurled into the air. It smacked into the wall. Flames began to lick their way up the panels.

The child began to bawl.

Makoto swallowed a curse. Panic rose in his chest. He raised his blade once more.

The next few minutes were a haze of smoke and blood. Anyone who got in his way was hacked aside. Servant or guard, young or old, he didn't even look at their faces. The less people caught sight of his own, the better. Somehow, he made it back to the cellar in one piece.

He forced his way through the trapdoor and slammed it shut behind him. He caught a hurried breath. A sob sounded from below him.

"Kei."

Kei lay at the foot of the steps, clutching his wounded leg. He froze at the sound of Makoto's voice.

"Kei, it's me." Makoto slung his bloody blade over his shoulder and approached him open-handed.

Kei shrank back against the wall. He couldn't take his eyes from his face.

"Come on, Kei. It's me. Makoto." He reached out a hand.

Kei's body was shaking like a leaf in a gale. He curled into a ball with a whimper. He shook his head as Makoto leaned closer.

He'd never reach out to him again.

Makoto let his hand fall. Footsteps came from above. They didn't have much time. He reached for Jatou.

He couldn't leave Kei like this. If he stayed he'd choke or burn. Let the guards catch him and his fate would be even worse. At least he could grant him one small mercy.

That was all he had left to give.

* * *

"Jakotsu?"

Bankotsu's voice strained from his throat. His head was filled with fog. His lungs burned with every breath. He forced an eye open.

"Jakotsu?"

Jakotsu didn't respond. He slammed his blade into Iwakami's chest - or what was left of it. His arm was crimson with gore. The samurai's corpse was splayed out beneath him, awash with blood. His knife quivered in his hands. He carried on stabbing.

He tried a little louder. "Jakotsu. He's dead."

Jakotsu drove his knife back into the corpse. He withdrew it near as fast. His arm shot back down for another blow. Words alone wouldn't reach him.

Bankotsu clenched his teeth and reached for the nearest weapon to hand - a broken spear haft. He dragged himself upright with a groan. The effort brought tears to his eyes. He choked them down and attempted to take a step forwards. That sent him stumbling. He drove the haft into the dirt. It trembled under his weight. He forced another step.

"Jakotsu..." He paused to steady his legs. He swore under his breath and pushed on. He kept his voice as calm as possible. "It's okay... he can't-"

A hand clutched at his ankle. He started and stared down at Hiroshi. The archer stared up at him through a haze of pain. Blood trickled from his cracked lips.

"You see... boy?" His voice was a hollow croak. He turned his head towards Jakotsu and nodded for him to do the same.

Bankotsu didn't take his eyes off Hiroshi. "Get off me." He gave him the hardest kick he could manage.

Hiroshi didn't care. He attempted to raise his hand. His fingers scraped uselessly at the dirt.

"See."

Bankotsu followed his gaze this time. Jakotsu hadn't even noticed them. His arm hung heavier after every stab. His eyes had lost none of their fire.

"Him... that monster..."

Hiroshi's voice dissolved into a series of coughs. He swore and forced out a few more words.

"Nothing but... trouble."

Bankotsu shook his head. He steadied himself and raised the spear haft. Hiroshi met his eyes again. He didn't look away. He drove the sharp end through his throat.

It was quicker than he deserved.

Pulling it out almost put him flat on his back. He stifled a cry and plodded on.

Jakotsu could barely raise his arm by now. His hand trembled with every stab. Bankotsu crept up beside him. His breath hammered in his ears. He placed his hand on Jakotsu's shoulder.

"It's okay, Ja-"

His voice was smothered by an enveloping hug.

Fire shot through his ribs. His fingers lost their grip. The spear haft clattered to the ground. The knife fell beside it. He winced as Jakotsu crushed him to his chest.

" _Jakotsu_..."

A sob burst from Jakotsu's throat. His grip slackened just enough to allow Bankotsu another breath. He was shaking. He wasn't the only one. Bankotsu reached up and gave his back an awkward pat.

There was another sob. Then another. His shoulder grew wet with tears. The shaking slowed and stilled. Jakotsu's arms relaxed around him. He slumped against his chest as his knees finally gave way.

There was no need for words.

* * *

 _Constructive criticism is very welcome!_

I update once a month. Next month's chapter will be the last one.


	18. Epilogue (Jakotsu)

**DISCLAIMER:** Inuyasha and all of the canon characters featured in this fanfic are the property of Takahashi Rumiko, Shogakukan Publishing, Sunrise, Viz and all other respective copyright owners. I do not lay claim to these characters in any way, shape or form.

 **Author's notes:**

Sorry this one's a few days later than I planned. I had to drop everything to prepare for an interview presentation at short notice. Then I wound up with a migraine on Saturday. Good times.

There's a few more things I'd like to say but I'll save them for the end. Hope you enjoy the final chapter!

* * *

 **Epilogue - Jakotsu**

Sunset found them in a sheltered grove beside a hillside brook. The waning light flitted through the canopy overhead. A faint breeze brought them a little relief. No one had crossed their path since the temple. Their only companions were the birds and squirrels.

The water was bone cold but clear and fresh. It was more than enough for a quick wash. He could finally scrub that bastard's touch off his skin.

Bankotsu hadn't stirred since he set him down. He lay on his back on top of a pile of bracken leaves in the shadow of a crooked maple. It was the softest bed he could give him right now. Gentleness didn't come to him so easy these days.

The last word out of his mouth was Jakotsu.

It had started as more of a joke than anything else. He'd changed names like clothes since he left the castle. It was no big deal to try another one on for size. Besides, Bankotsu had to call him _something_.

Yet somehow it had stuck. Jakotsu had gone from a joke, to a habit, to a name in itself. It was the first word to reach him through his haze of rage and blood. Somehow it called him back to himself.

The dampness of Bankotsu's blood against his skin had shocked him into action. A quick search of the temple had yielded a stash of bandages, herbs, ointment and what stank like moonshine. It was enough to patch him up for now. He wasn't about to go searching for any unlikely survivors. The herbs had stunk more than enough to bring Bankotsu back to what remained of his senses. They'd left as soon as his stomach stopped heaving.

Bankotsu had wound up riding on his back most of the way. He'd barely had the energy left to complain. They'd only stopped twice; both times for him to empty his stomach. He'd drifted off as soon as his head stopped pounding.

He glanced over at the sleeping boy. The sight sent a stab of guilt through his chest. So much for trying to keep him out of this. He was lucky not to have punctured a lung.

Hell knew what another minute's hesitation would have cost him.

Still, here was no harm in letting the kid get some rest. He sure needed it. He wasn't the only one. Cold water and sheer willpower were the only things keeping his eyes open. He fought back a wave of sleepiness. They could stay open a little longer.

He wasn't letting Bankotsu out of his sight again.

"Jakotsu?"

He gave a start and dropped his washcloth. He cursed and fished it out of the brook before the current could steal it away. He glanced over his shoulder and found Bankotsu's eyes wide open.

"I'm fine. Just getting cleaned up."

"In the middle of the stream?" Bankotsu's brows creased. "Come on out before you catch a cold."

"It's not _that_ cold." His trembling hands said otherwise.

"Come on, you're going to scrub your skin off at this rate."

Bankotsu tried to sit up. He fell back with a hiss of pain.

"Don't get up!" he snapped.

He dashed forwards, only to grind to a halt as he remembered his lack of clothes. He sat down with a splash.

Bankotsu blinked. His eyes widened once more as he realised why he'd stopped. He gave a small cough and looked away. He fixed his eyes on the nearest tree and reached behind his head.

He tugged his makeshift pillow free with a wince. He held it out towards him. He scrambled out of the stream and took it with a mumbled thanks.

It didn't take long to dry off. At least he had a change of clothes. He'd stuffed the richest of the bandits' leftover pickings into his carrying cloth. They weren't the cleanest bunch - and far from the best-dressed - but he'd managed to find two kosode that were mercifully free of stains. Bankotsu's was like a tent on him even with the sleeves torn off. His own was little better but for once he was past caring about what he looked like.

His feet swayed as he stood back up. He grabbed at a tree trunk for support. Sleep was catching up with him much too fast for his liking. He'd best eat something while he had the chance. They still had a couple of onigiri left. He'd also grabbed some dried kelp and sardines from the bandits. It was more than enough for a makeshift dinner.

He returned to the campsite and started rooting through his carrying cloth. Bankotsu had somehow managed to sit up despite the pain. He was too tired to scold him again. They couldn't risk another bandit attack. They couldn't risk a fire either but at least it would be a warm night.

He broke one of the onigiri in half and passed the largest piece to Bankotsu. He probably wasn't in any more of a mood for food than he was but rice was better than nothing. At least it might settle his stomach a little.

He'd refilled their canteens before he bathed too. He offered one to Bankotsu.

"Jakotsu?"

That name again. Of course it would have to come up sooner or later. He swallowed his nerves and looked him in the eyes.

"You know, you don't have to keep on calling me that."

Bankotsu frowned. "You sure?"

"Well..." He gave a sigh. There wasn't much point left in pretending. "I mean, you know it's not my real name, so-"

"But isn't that the name you like?"

It was his turn to look confused. "It's just..."

Just what? No answer came to his lips. He swallowed another sigh.

"I... I should've told you. This is all-"

Bankotsu raised his palm. "Don't."

A frown crossed his face. "But-"

"I'm the one who ran off on you."

"But it's not like I can blame you."

"Then stop blaming yourself." Bankotsu's frown deepened. The effect was spoiled somewhat by the grains of rice clinging to his cheek. "That arsehole was the one who started it."

If only things were that simple. He shook his head. "It's... complicated, Bankotsu. Let's just say heroic rescues aren't really my thing."

Bankotsu's frown relaxed a little. "Maybe." He wiped the rice away and stuffed it in his mouth. "But you're not like him either."

His own frown returned. "You heard what-"

"You think that bastard would have come back for me?"

He met Bankotsu's open gaze with a stare. There wasn't a trace of deception in those eyes.

"Look, you don't have to talk right now. Not if you don't want to." Bankotsu reached out and put his hand on his arm. "But if you ever do..."

"I..."

He could have hugged him all over again. If that wouldn't have made him pass out.

"... I don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything." He gave his arm a pat. "You can use whatever name you want. Jakotsu's okay with me."

He made no reply. His words had slipped away from him again. Yet he couldn't deny it. Of all the names he'd tried, it was the only one that really fit.

A soft smile found its way to Jakotsu's lips.

"Then it's okay with me too."

Bankotsu returned the smile. "So now will you go to sleep?"

"Bankotsu..." Jakotsu heaved another sigh. "You're not going to-"

"And you're going to pass out if you stay awake much longer. It's not like I'm going to get much sleep like this anyway." He poked at his ribs and flinched.

"But what if-"

"I'll wake you if anyone comes." His eyes were softer now. Almost pleading. "Promise?"

Damn it. He couldn't say no to that face. Sometimes Bankotsu's stubbornness was as adorable as it was annoying. The kid could hardly walk yet he was still trying to protect him. He hid another smile behind his hand.

"Well... okay. But just for an hour or two, right?"

"Right." Bankotsu shuffled aside and patted the pile of leaves. "Uh, sorry there's not much space. I can get more if you want."

"It's fine. Really." He couldn't hide his smile this time.

Bankotsu gave him a nod and settled his back against the maple. Jakotsu flopped down on the pile with a sigh. After last night this was almost comfortable. His eyelids were growing heavier by the moment. There was just one last thing before he closed them for good.

"Um, Bankotsu?"

A rustle came from beside him. "Hmm?"

"Thanks."

"Hey, we're friends, right?"

 _Friends._ It was such a simple word. Yet it was such a big step. One he'd thought he'd never take again.

But some people were worth taking chances for.

"Right."

He rolled over and drifted off with his smile still on his face.

* * *

First of all, I'd like to say a big thank you to everyone who's been following this story. Especially those of you who took the time to leave comments. Written feedback's hard to come by these days, especially when you're writing about side characters in a large(ish) fandom with a high turnover of fics, so I really do appreciate it.

Second, even though this is the final chapter, I'm still working on this story. I was pretty out of practice when I first started writing this and to be honest, I think it shows. I'd like to revise the earlier chapters once I've got the time. There's also a few things I'd like to tidy up here and there in the later ones. Any constructive criticism you have to offer would be very welcome.

Finally, I do have a few more one shots, etc. planned for the future, although it'll be a while before I attempt any more multi-chapter fanfiction (I could do with a bit of a break). Stay tuned.


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